


It Means Loved One

by HeroMaggie



Series: The Princes of Kirkwall [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage AU, Families can cause problems, Fenris is patient and sweet, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Happy Ever Afters, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Prince Anders, Prince Fenris, Romance, So AU it isn't funny, Thank Heavens for Orana, anders is a nervous wreck, courtship and wooing, heat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Anders Theirin of Ferelden has been betrothed to Fenris Lowell, Prince of Kirkwall since he was twelve - an advantageous match for both country and city. But on the eve of their marriage, Prince Fenris discovers that Prince Anders' views of their impending nuptials and his hopes don't mesh and sets out to woo his nervous consort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> From a Prompt on Tumblr: I...ah... *nervous laughter* was wondering if you would be open to an arranged marriage fenders prompt?

Kirkwall was a grey, stone covered monstrosity of a city. That a traveler’s first glimpse into the City of Chains was the building that used to house the slaves...a prison...inspired less excitement and more dread. In fact, the only sense currently being felt by Prince Anders Theirin was a desperate desire to get out of the carriage carrying him through what he was told was Hightown and perhaps lie down and cuddle his cat.

He was tired, sore, and still a tad nauseous from the voyage.

Next to him sat said cat, Ser Pounce-a-lot. A regal tabby, the cat glared daggers at the man sitting across from him. Every time the man shifted, the cat gave a little growl. After the third growl, the man growled back.

“Cullen, stop growling at Pounce.” Anders frowned at his brother and patted his lap, Ser Pounce-a-lot taking the cue to crawl across the seat to cuddle.

“You will get cat hair on your clothing. What will the Prince think?” Cullen’s eyes flicked to Anders’ and he frowned. “If you make a scene…”

“Maker, shut up. It’s my almost-wedding day. Just...shut up. At least you get to go home.” Anders turned his head to look out the window. “I miss it already.”

“Pfah. This is an honor, Anders. Da made the arrangements the minute you were old enough to show signs of magical ability. This marriage will tie House Theirin and House Lowell together. Your children will rule Kirkwall.” Cullen was nearly preaching, his eyes shining.

“When do you get married?” Anders kept his gaze resolutely on the passing scenery, fingers ruffling Pounce’s fur.

“When a suitable bride is found. It’ll take a special person to handle being the wife of a Knight Commander.” Cullen brushed a hand over his surcoat and gave a slight smile. “Though there are a couple in the running.”

“Bully for you.” Anders gave a sigh. The carriage turned a corner, passing between two decorative posts. Craning his neck, Anders squinted at the Keep coming into view.

It was massive and made of grey weathered stone.

“More blighted grey stone.” The mutter was nearly unintelligible.

“All mined from the local area.” Cullen explained. “Good and sturdy.”

Anders rolled his eyes and then schooled his face as the carriage slowly rolled to a stop. The sounds of guard snapping to attention filled the air and then the call for his brother and his wife, King Cailan and Queen Anora, came. A slight creak and then heavy armor as his brothers, King Cailan and Commander Alistair exited their carriage. Then a softer creak and Queen Anora and Princess Elissa exited as well. A few more minutes and then there was the sound of shuffling and the door to the carriage popping open. Cullen straightened his surcoat and stepped out, a smile on his face. Anders counted to five and then followed his brother, Pounce held securely in his arms.

The guard were busy moving up behind the King and Queen, who were striding up a set of stairs to meet a tall figure at the top. Anders had an impression of long black hair and dark skin and then the group was there. They exchanged bows and curtsies and entered the Keep, leaving him standing with Cullen and a narrow man dressed in the Lowell livery.

“Prince Anders.” The man standing in front of him was tall with a narrow face and lips pulled down into a disapproving frown. “I am Seneschal Bran. It is an honor to meet you. I am here to direct you to your rooms and assure your comfort before tonight.”

“Yes well...um. The honor is mine, I think. This is Pounce.” Anders jostled Pounce and then glanced around.

“The Consort suite has been prepared for you and rooms are ready for your retinue. Do you wish to clean up before you meet with Prince Lowell?” Bran’s eyes were stuck on Pounce, his face screwed up into a moue of distaste.

“Consort suite...right…” Anders gave a sigh. “Well, lead on Seneschal. Let’s see where I’ll be living now.”

Seneschal Bran’s face smoothed out into something that managed to convey absolute disapproval. “This way Your Majesty. Prince Lowell has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. We are, all of us, pleased with your upcoming nuptials.”

“I just bet,” Anders muttered, following Bran up more stairs than any person should have to climb. Cullen waited for Bran to to turn a corner and slapped Anders on the back of the head.

“Behave or I’ll tell Cailan.” He hissed.

“And what’s the King going to do? Drag me home? Perish the thought.” Anders ignored the slap and continued climbing stairs. “This is ridiculous. How many stairs does any one Keep need?”

Cullen gave a grunt. “Your brothers expect me to keep you in line and get you to the altar tomorrow. Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”

“Not something you’ll regret, then?” Anders perked up when he realized they were done with the stairs and had reached the correct floor.

It housed two doors. One set at the end of a short hallway and one set to the right. Anders gazed at the door at the end of the hallway and swallowed back the urge to flee. It was the Prince’s room. He could tell - it was twice as fancy as the door on the right - the one the Seneschal stood in front of.

That was the room his future husband slept in. It was the room Anders may end up sleeping in a few times a month...to produce the necessary heir.

He wondered what Cullen would do if he turned and fled. If he ran fast he could make the ship and be out to sea before any of his brothers could hunt him down and drag him back. He could make a living as an itinerant healer...he could…

Cullen gave him a nudge and Anders turned and offered the Seneschal a weak smile. “Thank you, Bran. I’ll, ah...get comfortable. Please see my brother to his room?”

“His Majesty has given orders for you to wait here for him. He wishes to meet you before the celebration tonight.” One eyebrow was raised, as if to say guards would be posted and watching for Anders’ escape.

“Goody.” Was all Anders could come up with before he moved through the open door.

“Your luggage will be up momentarily. This way, Prince Cullen. Your room is one floor down and with King Cailan and Prince Alistair.” Bran gave Anders a bow and then closed the door. The sound had a disturbing finality to it.

***

The rooms were generously sized and bright with large windows that overlooked the gardens below. The sitting room was decorated in ivory with pale blue accents, divans and chairs arranged in front of a pale ivory marble fireplace. Anders scrunched up his nose at all the pale colors and moved into the bedroom. There, a large chunk of the space was taken up by a four poster bed done in pale blonde wood, more blue, and yellows. A bathing room sat to one side next to a large dressing room. And opposite the bed...the door that connected to the Prince’s suite.

Anders stared at the door, eyes wide, and forgot to breath for a moment.

Would he...tomorrow night...would he be in there? Would the Prince make him…

A knock at the door had him shrieking and Pounce dug his claws deep into his chest before leaping away to hide under the bed. Patting at his chest, Anders made his way to the suite door, opening to find his luggage being carried by the Keep’s servants.

“Ah...just...um. Just bring it all in. I’ll put it away.” Anders waved his hands.

The servants stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

“Seriously, don’t unpack my things. Thank you. I appreciate the help. I promise I can dress myself.” Anders practically pushed them from the room and slammed the door closed again. His chests sat stacked in the sitting room...a small tower of clothing and items. The rest of his belongings would arrive after the wedding.

Anders glared at the chests and started hefting them into the bedroom.

Fifteen minutes later and he’d peeled off his coat and overtunic and was down to his under tunic and pants. His boots had been kicked off and shoved into the dressing room. Pounce was asleep on them. Hair mussed and face red from moving furniture and unpacking books, Anders looked less like a Prince and more like the servants he had excused.

He didn’t hear the knock on the door, too busy lining books up on his desk. He didn’t hear the door open after the third knock. He didn’t hear the sound of somebody walking through the sitting room. In fact, Anders was oblivious to anybody else being in what were now his rooms until a hand came to rest on his arm.

Then he screamed, dropped the books, and leapt away.

“I did not mean to frighten you.” The voice was rich and deep, curious. “I did knock. Three times in fact.”

“Oh Andraste.” Anders clutched at his chest and took in the intruder.

The elven intruder wearing the royal crest. Green eyes glanced up at Anders’ face and then slid down his body. One black eyebrow crept up to meet equally black hair on a face that could be best described as heartbreakingly handsome. “Where is your servant? And what are you doing?”

“I can unpack by myself. I don’t like people handling my healing research. I, ah, don’t much care to be fawned over in general.” Anders shifted. “Besides, I didn’t come with a servant. I don’t keep one, just...use one when I’m home. I’m usually at the Circle and trust me, I don’t have time to be primped when I’m teaching.”

“We’ll need to remedy that.” The man took a step forward. “I am Fenris Lowell, Prince of Kirkwall. And you are Prince Anders Theirin of Ferelden, my betrothed?”

“Sadly yes.” The words popped out and Anders blinked. “I mean, I am. Your Majesty. I’m sorry.”

The second eyebrow slid up the Princes face. He blinked and then gestured at the sitting room. “Come sit with me, Anders. I will not bite. Yet.”

Fenris turned and ambled from the bedroom, slowing slightly as he passed the bed. Anders paled and patted at his chest before smoothing back his hair and following Fenris from the room.

He found Fenris sitting on a settee. The Prince looked up at Anders and patted the seat next to him. Anders swallowed and made his way across the sitting room, choosing a chair instead. He watched with fascination as fenris’ lips twisted into a faint smile.

“Are you always so difficult?” That rich voice again, curiosity in every word.

“I just...don’t…” Anders thought about his words. “I was happy as a healer and teacher. I did good work. This, all of this, was a surprise.”

“I was under the assumption that you knew you were betrothed.” The curiosity disappeared, the Prince appearing surprised and slightly upset.

“I mean, I did. I knew. There was always talk as I grew up...lessons and everything. But I guess, I guess I just settled into my clinic. Put it aside and just…” Anders twisted his fingers together. “I spent more time away from court. I had a thriving clinic and I taught at the Circle.”

“And you will miss it.” The Prince tilted his head, lips twisting back into that faint smile. “You were hoping it would never happen.”

Anders looked away and sighed. “Got it right in one.”

They sat in silence, listening to the fire, until Fenris stirred. “I will woo you.” The words were sudden and caused Anders to blink.

“Come again?”

Fenris gave a half-smile, eyes disturbingly focused on Anders. “We shall marry tomorrow and you shall spend the night in my rooms, as is proper - though we will probably just fall asleep. The day is destined to be exhausting. Then, I shall woo you. I do not wish a reluctant…”

“I am not a bride.” Anders wrinkled his nose.

“I would be grateful if you would visit the Circle and see how it is fairing. I have no idea how best to approach that place. Magic, in general, is an unknown and I have been reluctant to poke my nose into the Circle or its running. I am also assigning a you a servant - she would have been a lovely addition to your retinue but it appears you do not have one. Her name is Orana. She is...you two shall get along, I believe. And if you do not wish for more servants, well, she is very capable.” Fenris watched Anders open and close his mouth. “I know this has to be difficult. I had assumed...well...it is no matter.”

“You had assumed what?” Anders leaned forward, fascinated despite his fears and worries.

Fernis patted the settee again and tilted his head, waiting to see if Anders would move. Which he did, after flushing and swallowing.

Settling down next to Fenris, Anders couldn’t seem to stop rubbing his knees. When one dark-skinned hand slid over one of his hands to still the fidget, he inhaled. “Anders, did your father not show you the letters I sent? The small portraits I had made for you? I received updates on you.”

“No...I...no.” Anders frowned. “Da passed away years ago and my brother...he’s been…”

“King Cailan.” Fenris looked thoughtful. “Well, if he allowed you to spend so much time away from Court then I can see how you would not have received my little gifts and letters. I have much time to make up for.”

“What about...what about an heir?” Anders clutched his knees, knuckles going white.

“We have time for that.” Fenris gave a slight frown before that ghost of a smile returned. “So. I shall send Orana to you. She will help you finish unpacking and dress for dinner. You shall sit next to me and we will start to get to know each other, yes?”

“I suppose.” Anders tried for a hesitant smile.

Fenris nodded, standing. He gave Anders a final look. “Welcome to Kirkwall. You will be safe here, Anders. I swear it.”

Anders watched him leave through the door. Face scrunched in thought, he stayed on the settee. His...husband...seemed ok, a little reserved but...ok. Though...Anders was concerned about this wooing. And about his words about the Circle.

Settling back against the plush fabric, he decided he’d best wait for this Orana. Hopefully she wasn’t some haridan that would nag and prod him. If so, he’d just have to find a way to get rid of her - like he had the last five personal servants he had had.

***

The next knock on the door was quiet and circumspect. Anders was still sitting on the settee and heard it. Dragging himself to the door, he was expecting to find an older woman with her face set in a disapproving frown.

What he found was a young, pretty elven woman with a gentle smile and wide green eyes.

“I’m Orana. And you are Prince Anders, yes?” She gave a curtsey, a little bob followed by a cheery smile. “His Majesty said you were homesick and in need of help.”

“I…” Anders stepped aside to let her come in. “Yes.”

“And you don’t have a servant of your own. Will me being female bother you?” Orana tilted her head to the side, her blond hair sliding over her shoulder.

“Ah, no?” Anders shuffled slightly.

“Want a bath? They always help.” She had closed the door and moved to him, reaching out to take one hand. “Do you prefer your personal servant to be aloof or can I coddle a bit?”

“Um, to be honest I usually run the personal servants off within a day or two.” Anders flushed under her amused grin.

“Well, let’s try not to run me off.” She was squeezing his hand. “It has to be hard, moving and getting married like this.”

“Don’t you...I mean, I didn’t pull you away from anybody more important?” Anders was following her back to the bedroom, relieved to let somebody else deal with everything for once.

“I was one of Princess Varania’s retinue. But she’s got several servants and I didn’t want to move to Starkhaven. His Majesty was going to move me to your retinue but...you don’t have one, do you?” She turned to look at the still unpacked chests, eyebrow arching.

“I spent more time teaching and healing than at court,” Anders explained, again.

“Hmm.” She tapped her chin and glanced around. “My job is to make sure you’re happy, dressed, and taken care of. So how about we start with you taking a relaxing bath and me working on these chests?”

Anders shuffled. “Half of them are books.”

“That you wish to put away at your leisure,” She guessed.

“Ah, yes. I don’t...I don’t like my books touched.” Anders peeked at her to see her reaction.

She was smiling. “How about I unpack your clothing while you soak. You have plenty of time to arrange your books after tomorrow. Prince Anders?” She touched his shoulder.

“Just...Anders. Please?” He leaned into the shoulder touch and she patted at him.

“Anders, then. Come with me. I need you to tell me how you like your baths. And I’m assuming your clothing for tonight is packed and will need to be aired out. I’ll have some tea and biscuits brought up for you and you can rest while I sort everything out.” She turned him gently and pushed him towards the bathing chamber. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”

***

A couple of hours later and Anders was sitting in his dressing room, a slight frown on his face. Orana stood behind him, carefully plaiting his hair and humming. She saw his frown and gave a slight chuckle.

“You look handsome. Prince Fenris is a lucky man.” She tied off the plait with a tie and squeezed his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“The bath helped.” Anders admitted. “Now I’m just nauseous instead of tense and nauseous.”

Smoothing a hand over the plait, she met his eyes in the mirror. “What has you worried?”

“That I’ll embarrass the Prince. My brothers are here and I’m...nervous. I don’t really want to be married, but I have no choice. And...I’m better suited to the classroom than some big State affair.” He let his shoulders droop. “I’m a very good teacher.”

“What do you teach?” Orana nabbed a golden ribbon decorated with lions and began to wrap the hair tie with it.

“The art of healing and creation magics. I also do a class on spirits and demons.” Anders straightened his tunic and frowned slightly. “And an introduction to magic for the apprentices.”

“At the Circle?” She tied off the ribbon and admired her handiwork.

“Yes. Do you think…” He met her gaze again. “I’d like to keep teaching.”

“I don’t see why not. The Consort, typically, has their own duties. With you being a mage, it would be reasonable to suggest you’d take over some Circle duties.” She patted his shoulder. “Stand up?”

He did, scrunching his nose as she straightened his tunic and then tugged at his pants. “Orana…”

“How did you get your laces like this? Hold still.” She fussed with his pants, tugging and clucking her tongue until the front placket sat straight and the laces were tied and tucked away.

“Well, that wasn’t embarrassing at all.” He mumbled.

“More or less than when I washed your hair and back?” She teased. “If it makes you feel better, I do have a lover and she’s lovely.”

Anders felt a smile start to form. “Is she here? Is that why you didn’t want to leave?”

“Yes. She works in the stables with His Majesty’s horses. She’s...I am hoping to petition for marriage rights.” Orana gave a hum. “His Majesty is very generous with his staff.”

Anders looked down at his pants and then slanted a look at Orana. “So...this makes the bath less embarrassing.”

“And the pants?” Orana grinned and smoothed his tunic down before grabbing his doublet, holding it out for Anders to slip into.

“I’m not sure having a pretty girl’s fingers near my crotch can be considered anything but slightly embarrassing but I’ll endeavor to not make it awkward.” Anders gave a soft laugh and allowed Orana to fasten the hidden hooks and straighten his sleeves.

“There. His Majesty is going to be overwhelmed.” She patted his chest. “And there’s a handsome smile. It won’t be too bad living here, see?”

“I suppose not.” Anders nabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be here when dinner is done to help you settle into bed. Anything I should know?” She gave him a fond smile.

“I...I don’t sleep well in new places.” Anders sighed.

“Well,” She pondered. “I’ll have a cup of tea waiting and the covers pulled back and the bed warm. It’s getting colder at nights. Now go have fun. Remember, this is your day. Your brother may be the King, but you are the one getting married to the Prince of Kirkwall. That makes you both nearly equals now.”

“I should thank Prince Fenris for assigning you to me.” Anders mused.

“Yes you should.” She gave him a push. “Now get. Have fun. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Anders gave her a slight smile and then headed for the door to his his suite. His heart began to pound when he opened the door and found Prince Fenris waiting for him. The Prince slid his eyes down Anders’ body, lips quirking into that small half-smile.

“You look…” The Prince cleared his throat. “I am a lucky man. Are you ready?”

Anders glanced back, saw Orana give him an encouraging wave, and nodded. “Yes. Yes I am. Thank you.”

Fenris gave another half-smile and held out his arm. Anders rested his hand on the offered arm and allowed himself to be led down a rather ridiculous amount of stairs, across the Keep, and to the banquet hall. His fingers dug into the Prince’s richly embroidered doublet as the doors to the hall were flung open and their names announced. A moment before they stepped in, the Prince laid his hand over Anders.

“It will be alright. Now, let’s smile and gets this over with so we can get some sleep.” Fenris gave Anders’ hand a brief squeeze and stepped into the hall.

The words made Anders smile - so when he walked into the Hall it was with a bemused look on his face and Prince Fenris’ hand holding his.

***

Anders considered their seating to be a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, having their table on a dias meant that he only had to deal with immediate family. On the other hand, everybody could see him and he was worried he’d make a fool of himself.

He was seated next to Fenris. On his right sat his brother, King Cailan, and his wife, Queen Anora. To the left of Fenris sat Princess Varania and Prince Sebastian. Across from them sat his other brothers, Alistair and Cullen, and Alistair’s wife.

Cullen had spent the first half of the meal watching every little nibble and sip - waiting for Anders to drop food down his doublet or make a mess. Fenris noticed when Anders’ hand started to shake, turned his head, and raised one eyebrow at Cullen. The look of clear superiority had Cullen clearing his throat and engaging Sebastian in conversation.

After that, everybody seemed to relax and settle into social niceties that includes discussions on upcoming social engagements and Varania’s impending nuptials.

Cailan was in mid tease with Cullen about them needing to find him a bride when Fenris leaned slightly to his right and whispered into Anders’ ear, “Doing well?”

Anders flushed a little and nodded, hands dropping to his lap. “Yes. Just...full and tired. They can talk all night. It’s tedious.”

“So what you are saying is that you would be grateful if I found a way to get us out of this boring situation.” The words were whispered with a teasing lilt despite the look of calm on the Prince’s face.

Anders blinked at him and then gave a shy smile. “I would be grateful, yes.”

“Grateful enough to allow me to walk you to your rooms?” Fenris tilted his head, one eyebrow quirking.

“You...wish to…” Anders stared down at his plate for a moment. Fenris gave a soft hum, expression mild as he looked at Anders. “Ah...that would be fine, yes.”

“And would I, perhaps, be able to tempt a small kiss from you?” Fenris leaned towards him, breathing into his ear. “We are about to be married, and I have been staring at your portraits for years now.”

Anders full-on blushed and nodded, chewing on the corner of his lips.

Fenris gave a pleased nod and then stood, pushing his seat back with a loud scraping noise. The entire room quieted, all eyes on him. He held out his hand to Anders, who took it and slowly stood.

“I wish to bid you all a good evening. My fiance is exhausted from his travels and will need his sleep before tomorrow. Thank you all for attending our first dinner. We both look forward to seeing you on the morrow.” His voice rang out, commanding with a hint of coldness underneath. His eyes swept over Anders’ family, and he gave the table a short bow before pulling Anders to his side and tucking his hand against his arm.

Anders followed him, swallowing past the jolt of nerves that made his fingers shift against Fenris’ sleeve. When they had made it halfway up the stairs to their wing, Fenris stopped, making Anders lift his eyes.

“You seem nervous now.” Fenris’ voice was filled with that calm curiosity again.

“You seemed so cold when you spoke to everyone.” Anders gripped Fenris’ jacket. “I just...wasn’t expecting it.”

“I am a firm ruler, Anders. I have to be. Kirkwall is one City-State among several in the Free Marches. I do not command a country like your brother. I do not have a large standing army or a large population. I am dependent on the other City-States in making regional decisions. So I must be firm and strong. This alliance strengthens my political backing. It puts the might of Ferelden behind my words. I must convey that I am worthy of that strength.” Fenris patted lightly at Anders’ hand. “It does not mean I will be so cold to you.”

“I’m not very good at the politics.” Anders admitted, glancing down at Fenris’ hand.

“You do not have to be.” The little half-smile was back. Fenris shook his head before they resumed their climb. “You ran clinics in Ferelden. I would like to see you start that here. For some reason, our Circle mages rarely aid the city. I need you to root out the problems and fix them. I am no mage. Magic is an unknown. You have full authority as my consort. After tomorrow, your words are my words.”

“You...really?” Anders brightened. “I may start clinics here? May I teach classes as well?”

“The Prince Consort teaching at the Circle?” Fenris looked thoughtful. “It would be a major political statement. The Free Marches, as a rule, view magic much more conservatively. Allowing you such leniency and power would...yes. It would show we are melding with Ferelden. I will allow it.”

Anders beamed. “I loved my students. I had trained several very talented healers in Ferelden. A well-trained healer can keep an army on its feet. You don’t need more than a few to help turn the tide. And clinics - especially free clinics - aid the poor. It keeps disease and illness down. Your subjects are healthier, which means they can work more and are happier. It makes the kingdom more stable.” Anders inhaled, his eyes shining as he talked.

Fenris hummed, “You are very passionate about this.”

“I am.” Anders grinned. “It’s my life’s work.”

Fenris turned to face him and Anders realized they had made it to their wing and were standing in front of his door. His eyes widened as Fenris wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him close. “Are you passionate about others things as well?”

He was a little taller than Fenris, enough so that Fenris had to look up to meet his eyes. But Fenris was stronger, arms more muscled, hands able to grip harder. Green eyes had gone from curious to something else...something warmer, and it made Anders want to squirm. “I...I don’t know. I haven’t ever had…”

“No lovers?” Fenris arched an eyebrow, tilting his head. “None?”

“It was discouraged. I...heirs. My job is to give you heirs and…” Anders inhaled as Fenris slid a hand over the back of his neck. “Your Majesty?”

“Fenris,” Fenris whispered.

“Fenris…”

“You’re scared.” The hand at the back of his neck rubbed soothingly. “I won’t bite.”

“Yet,” Anders murmured, allowing his head to be tilted down.

“Yet,” agreed Fenris.

Their lips met with a simple brush and shared breath. Fenris nibbled lightly at his bottom lip and then pulled away. “Not for a while.”

“Thank you.” The words were breathed out. “For Orana. She...she is wonderful.”

“You are welcome.” Fenris stepped back. “Thank you for the kiss. Hopefully, you will grace me with another tomorrow.” Fenris stroked a finger down Anders’ neck and stepped back a bit more.

Anders blushed and nodded, turning to open his door. He hesitated before he moved away. “Good night Fenris.”

“Good night Anders.” Fenris’ voice was gentle.

Anders slipped into his room and shut his door. Leaning back against the ornate wood, he touched his fingers to his lips and pondered the man he would be marrying on the morrow.


	2. Wedding

“Anders, stop fidgeting. I need to get your hair washed.” Orana gave a huff and sat back, frowning at the strawberry blond hair covered in soap.

“What if I tied all the blankets and sheets together? Do you think I could shimmy out the window?” Anders glanced back at Orana, who simply rolled her eyes. “No?”

“No.” She huffed again and dug her fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp. “Stop squirming.”

“I’m...I’m...I can’t breathe. Orana…” Anders gripped the sides of the tub and panted. “Oh Maker, why me? What did I do?”

She was there by the tub in a blink, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing. “Alright. It’s alright. I know you’re nervous but Andraste’s flaming bosom, this is beyond simple nerves.”

Anders clung to her. “He’s not so bad, though, right? I mean, he was gentle with me last night and...seemed to understand…”

“The Prince is a good man. A good ruler. He’s tough, but fair. He may seem a little cold, but he’s just shy.” Orana soothed.

“He kissed me. How is that shy?” Anders gave a miserable laugh. “Will I have to...tonight?”

“He’s not going to push himself on you.” She clucked her tongue. “Alright. I know what the old biddies say but this...this is going to make you ill. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Anders let out a worried squawk. “Orana! Blast it...she’s the servant. She should listen.” He wiggled his nose and touched his hair. It was sudsy. Sighing, he grabbed the bucket of warm water next to the bath and dumped it on his head, sputtering.

He didn’t need help washing, but it was just nice to be pampered a little bit.

He had climbed from the tub by the time she returned. Wrapped in a large flannel towel, he was pondering the water in the tub when she walked in.

“Did you finish yourself?” She sounded mildly put out.

“Ah...yes?” Anders bit his lip and gave her a wide-eyed innocent look. “I can rinse myself.”

Rolling her eyes she shook her head. “So…”

“Is he decent?” Prince Fenris’ voice called out a moment before he strode in.

Anders grabbed Orana and shoved her in front of him.

“Fenris...ah...what…” Anders actually stuttered.

“You may leave us, Orana. Just start laying out his clothing.” The Prince waved his hand, and Orana rushed from the room.

Leaving Anders in just the flannel.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he backed up towards the tub. “Ahh...this is...you shouldn’t…”

Fenris tilted his head and then frowned. “What did they tell you?”

“What?”

“Your brothers. What did they tell you about tonight?” The words were more a demand than a question.

“That you would be my husband. There was a lot of lecturing about not embarrassing you, not blathering, not to bring my cat, and that if you wished to...to...um. That my job was to aid you in running Kirkwall and producing an heir. They were very explicit on the heir part.” Anders drooped a little. “I mean, I do like children. You can’t not like children and be a healer. A lot of my patients are...were...children. And I taught...or teach...but…”

“Anders.” His name was said on a sigh. “I am not a rapist.”

“You aren’t...I didn’t say that you were.” Anders’ eyes were wide.

Fenris hummed. “You implied I would simply take you.”

“Well, I mean. I would...I would try.” Anders sputtered.

“I do not wish for a scared virgin.” The words were muttered. “Kaffas, this is a nightmare.”

“That was Tevene.” Anders blinked. “The curse word…”

“Yes, well. Our mother was from Tevinter. A political match.” Fenris waved his hand. “I learned quite a bit. But that is neither here nor there.”

“I suppose not,” Anders said softly.

Stroking his chin, Fenris let his eyes drift down Anders’ body. Something like a smile curled up his lips and he shook his head. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here, Anders.” Fenris lifted his chin, a challenge in his eyes. Anders, for the first time noticed two small white lines that started at Fenris’ chin, angling down his neck. It was enough to make him forget a little of his nerves.

Anders shuffled forward, squeaking when he was gathered into a slightly awkward hug. He hesitated and then returned it, his arms going around Fenris.

“I will not force you. I swear it.” Fenris tightened his arms. “You will sleep next to me tonight. Just sleep.”

“You promise?” Anders’ voice waivered.

“You may bring your cat.” The words had a slight laugh behind them and Fenris cleared his throat. “Are you better, now?”

“I can bring Pounce?” Anders hugged Fenris tighter, a real hug. One that was warm and happy. “I can?”

“You may, yes.” Fenris chuffed against Anders’ shoulder. “Now get dressed. We must get married.”

“Well...since you’re going to be so accommodating..”

“Difficult.” Fenris shook his head. “I look forward to seeing how this plays out.” And with that, he turned and left.

Anders gripped his flannel and pondered what had just happened. At least he wasn’t nervous anymore.

***

“For the last time, stop pulling at your doublet.” Cullen slapped at Anders’ hands.

“My wedding day, my doublet, if I want to pull all the buttons off, I can.” Anders slapped back. He tugged at the sleeves and sighed. The entire outfit was black and gold - black doublet with gold slashed sleeves, black trousers, and golden cuffs. His hose was black. His shoes were black and gold. He felt like a trussed up goose.

“Would you two quit? Maker, it’s like you’re both five again.” Cailan smacked both of them on the back of the heads.

“And that shows admirable restraint, husband.” Anora sighed. “Really, you boys.”

“I understand that I am a disappointment, madam, but your behavior is not much better.” Cailan glared at his wife, who glared back.

“This is all so sweet. Father would be so proud.” Alistair’s voice was muffled, his wife straightening his collar. “Can’t we all just get along?”

Anders rolled his eyes while Elissa smoothed Alistair’s doublet and gave them all a teasing smile. “Stop acting like a family and start acting like royalty. You can return to beating each other up after the ceremony.”

Anora sniffed. Cailan rolled his eyes. Anders laughed. Which was how Bran found them.

“Your Majesty.” Bran executed a perfect bow. “We are ready.”

Anders stiffened and went pale.

“Let’s get this over with. I’d like to be back on the ship in time to catch the evening tide.” Cailan straightened his crown, took Anora’s arm, and nodded.

The double doors to the nave were flung open and then the King and Queen of Ferelden slowly started down the aisle. Another heartbeat and Prince Alistair and Princess Elissa followed. Cullen gave a narrow-eyed look to Anders and then started down the aisle.

And then it was his turn.

The Chantry was packed. Local dignitaries and nobility filled the pews. Incense hung heavy in the air, making it hard to breathe. Anders wondered, briefly, if he should have brought Pounce. Holding the cat would have calmed his nerves. Then his feet were moving and he was heading down the aisle, head held high and a hint of blush on his cheeks.

There, at front of the nave, stood Prince Fenris. Resplendent in all black with a tabard of deep red, the Prince looked forbidding. Harsh. Cold. Until he turned his head to meet Anders’ eyes - and then something like a smile curled up his lips and his gaze softened. Anders remembered the Prince’s words to him that morning, swallowed down the anxiety, and held out his hand.

***

The Grand Cleric performed the formal ceremony. The one that took an hour to sing and involved copious amounts of kneeling and then standing, kneeling...and then standing. By the end, Anders was ready to skip around the altar and do a wiggle just to break up all the up and down. Surely there should be some side-to-side to go along with it?

They had face each other, then the Grand Cleric, and were back to facing each other. Anders glanced at Fenris and saw that small smile on his lips, those lips twitching every time Anders rocked or fidgeted.

Maker, but the ceremony was long, tedious, and boring.

Finally...after what felt like two lifetimes...the Grand Cleric raised her hand above their joined hands and offered the final benediction. Sung. It took five minutes. Anders was rolling his eyes by the end and Fenris was clearly not smirking at him. No, his face was a mask of pleasant attentiveness. But every so often, his lips would tremble and Anders knew that he was amused.

Not mad. Amused.

The benediction ended and Fenris stepped forward, pulling Anders to him smoothly. Anders inhaled, feeling strong arms encircle him and fell into a green-eyed gaze as Fenris’ lips slid over his with a bit more pressure than last night’s kiss. Anders hesitated and then yielded, parting his own lips and allowing Fenris to deepen the kiss a hair more before pulling away.

The kiss left goosebumps on Anders’ skin and a swirl of something tight in his belly.

The announcement that they were, indeed, now married rang from the Grand Cleric and the Chantry erupted with dignified clapping. Fenris offered his arm and he took it, blushing slightly as he saw Alistair waggle his eyebrows.

Schooling his features, he allowed his husband to lead him from the Chantry and to the carriage that would return them to the Keep. Once there, they would have time to change and then it was the reception: dancing, food, and revelry.

Bran held the door to the carriage, bowing as Fenris entered. He hesitated and then bowed again when Anders took his spot. He raised an eyebrow at Fenris who waved him away, causing Bran to screw up his face and step back after closing the door. The carriage lurched and then took off.

“I will have to speak to Bran.” Fenris seemed to be making a mental note. “His facial expressions are unseemly.”

“You’re going to talk to your seneschal because he frowns?” Anders bit back a laugh.

“Our seneschal and yes. He should not frown at you. Your are my consort.” Fenris sniffed and then pulled down the shades over his window. “Close your window shades, Anders.”

“I...ok.” Anders reached for the small cord, tugging it so that the shades descended. The carriage darkened a hair and Anders bit his lip at the sudden privacy.

“Come here.” Fenris patted his lap and Anders blanched. “What did I say in the bathing room?”

“That you wouldn’t force me,” Anders mumbled.

“So come here.” Fenris tried again, this time adding a hint of wheedling. The change in tone was enough to have Anders sliding across the seat and settling, stiffly, on Fenris’ lap. He folded his hands in his lap and tried to not slouch.

Fenris gave a soft chuff and pulled him to his chest, wrapping his arms around him. “There.”

It was a cuddle. A little uncomfortable due to the clothing, but still...a cuddle. One Anders’ hadn’t anticipated. He allowed himself to relax and nuzzled a bit closer, finding that he enjoyed this.

“Better?” Fenris whispered, hands smoothing up and down his arm.

“Yes. This is nice.” Anders turned his head and pressed his face to Fenris’ shoulder. “Thank you.”

“How long will I have to endure your family?” Fenris pressed a kiss to Anders’ hair.

“Cailan wants to sail with the tide.” Anders wiggled a little and found himself nuzzling Fenris’ neck.

Arching his neck back, Fenris hummed. “Good.”

“Good?” Anders nuzzled a little closer, inhaling Fenris’ smell - musk and spice.

“They upset you. They give you orders as if they have a right, bully you into fearing me, and have the audacity to think I would wish to simply take my consort when I barely know him.” Fenris’ voice had an angry burr to it. “I have long been in favor of our union, but your brothers have polluted it.”

“To be fair, Alistair isn’t so bad. He and Elissa are sweet and loving. Their marriage was arranged. So was Cailan and Anora.” Anders lifted his head. “Cailan and Anora don’t get along. More like a cat and dog. One growls, the other hisses and both try to mark their territory.”

“And Cullen is not even engaged?” Fenris leaned back and touched Anders’ hair, left down for the ceremony. He seemed entranced by the strawberry gold strands. “Unusual.”

“He’s the Knight Commander. His life is given to the Chantry. He’ll marry eventually, when he and Cailan stop bickering over choices.” Anders tilted his head down and almost purred.

“Do you like this?” Fenris asked, his fingers trailing through the long strands.

“Yes. I do.” Anders squirmed again.

“May I have another kiss?” Fenris kept up with the petting.

“One. One kiss.” Anders’ cheeks grew warm, and he leaned forward to press his lips to Fenris’. Fenris tightened his grip in Anders’ hair, and in response, Anders opened to him, allowed him to taste.

When they pulled apart, Anders was flushed and Fenris’ eyes were dark. “You will be hard to resist.” His voice was rough.

“Give me time?” Anders touched his lips thoughtfully.

“All the time you need,” Fenris promised.

They sat cuddled together until the carriage rolled to a stop. It was with some reluctance that Anders slid from Fenris’ lap and composed himself, shy about how comfortable he had felt and how quickly he was settling with Fenris. When the door opened, Fenris stepped out and then turned and offered his arm.

It was at that moment that Anders truly began to understand that he was married.

***

“Attention! It is with great honor that I announce Fenris Lowell, Prince of Kirkwall and Anders Lowell, Prince Consort of Kirkwall.” Bran’s voice rang out over the assembled nobles and personages of royalty. The crowd turned to look at the stairs and the couple standing tall at the top of them. The couple paused and then slowly began to descend.

Anders’ hand was back on Fenris’ arm, clutching lightly and worrying at the stiff fabric of the Princes’ overtunic. For his part, Fenris moved slowly and carefully, very aware that his spouse was suffering from stage fright.

At the bottom of the stairs, both men paused, offered a bow, and then moved to a table situated on the blasted dias. Except this time it was two chairs at the small table - no family in sight.

Fenris moved to Anders’ chair and pulled it out, waiting for Anders to sit and be comfortable before he took his seat. Settled, the couple turned slightly smiling faces to the crowd of nobility - who also moved to their tables. A bell rang and the assembled crowd sat.

Servers moved through the throng filling glasses and placing out plates of hors d'oeuvres. As everybody settled, King Cailan stood and lifted his glass, tapping it lightly with his salad fork.

“Gathered personages. It is with great pleasure that I look upon my baby brother, now wed. Our Da, King Maric, would be pleased to see the joining of House Theirin with House Lowell. We look forward to our growing relationship and hope to see it cemented with an heir to the Kirkwall throne. To Prince Fenris and Prince Consort Anders, may their marriage be blessed with many children.”

The assembled crowd murmured in agreement. Anders glanced over at Fenris, who was sipping his sparkling wine with something like a small frown. Anders quickly sipped his own wine before leaning closer to whisper in his husband’s ear. “You look like you’re drinking vinegar.”

“Your brother’s toast was less than pleasant.” Fenris whispered back, his head turned so that he could speak into Anders’ ear. “You are not here to simply breed. You are my consort, my partner. He has taken you and made you less.”

Anders blinked, flushing slightly. “Isn’t that…”

“Do not tell me what your supposed role is at my side. We were betrothed because we appeared compatible, because your magical abilities will be useful and welcome, and because my father had turned down three other offers of betrothal because I saw your picture and thought you looked kind.” Fenris was still frowning slightly, though it was barely noticeable.

“But...I was only a boy when they discovered my magical talent. Twelve.” Anders was shocked.

“I am older than you.” Fenris gave that slight half-smile. “By a few years. You looked kind in your portrait. Eyes wide and a smile on your lips. And that beautiful hair…”

Now he was full-on blushing, eyes down on his hands. “I…”

“I watched you grow into a spectacularly handsome man. My reports were always glowing. Your talents, your generosity - it was endearing. To hear your brother’s speech…” Fenris laid a hand on Anders’ knee. “It is good you are here with me, if they cannot see your worth.”

Anders forgot that they were in a crowded hall, that there were nobles watching them whisper, that his brothers were sitting near the dias, he leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to Fenris’ lips. Nothing that could ever be considered improper by any stretch - a brush of lips and a murmured sound of happiness that had Fenris squeezing his knee and pressing into the kiss to deepen it. For one blissful moment, Anders was aware of nothing but the hand on his knee and the taste of his husband, and then the clapping started.

And he pulled back, eyes wide and face bright red.

Fenris was smiling an actual smile at him - eyes crinkled and lips curved. It made his breath catch in his throat, made him shiver from the sudden spark of something in his belly. Fenris let out a low chuckle and turned to grin at the crowd, who seemed to find the affection between their Prince and his Consort something to celebrate.

Anders glanced at his brothers and saw Cullen shaking his head, Cailan nodding in approval, and Alistair winking at him. It was horrific. It made him want to slide under the table. Instead, he turned back to Fenris and tried to not blush harder.

Fenris took pity on him and signaled Bran, who rang another bell. Servers streamed into the room, platters of food at the ready. The crowd gave another applause and then settled in to eat, giving the newlyweds some semblance of privacy.

Fenris danced his fingers up Anders’ leg to stroke his thigh once before pulling away. “That was delightful,” he murmured as food was placed at their table.

“So I don’t need to apologize?” Anders asked while trying to grab the serving fork from Fenris. “Maker, I can put food on my plate.”

“And I wish to serve you.” Fenris let out a little chuff of laughter. “Anders, let me serve you. I’ll let you fill the plates at breakfast.”

Anders stopped, glanced at Fenris, and then covered his mouth to stifle a nervous giggle. Rolling his eyes, he motioned at his plate. “Fine.” He swallowed his laughter. “Fine, but don’t get me any radishes. And stop piling it on. My husband is a bit bossy.”

Fenris just hummed in approval and added some fresh bread, pleasure evident in his every movement.

***

Dinner and dessert passed uneventfully. The first dance went off gracefully and without any fumbling. Shortly after the dance, King Cailan and the rest of the Theirins left - bowing and offering Anders copious amount of back pats and advice on how not to annoy his new husband. Anders took it better than Fenris - who frowned faintly until the entire group was gone.

Left alone with his husband...in a room full of strangers...Anders seemed to shrink in on himself. Fenris watched out of the corner of his eye as they circulated - his consort’s smile pained and his face a tad pale. After the third group of nobles, Fenris took pity and steered them to a table near the back.

“Prince Broody!” The dwarf who stood up to greet them was dressed flamboyantly in reds and rich browns. His embroidered coat and shirt were open an indecent amount to allow copious amounts of blond chest hair to gleam. “And your new...consort? Is that what we’re calling Blondie?

“Varric,” Fenris huffed under his breath. “Propriety.”

“Right. Sorry. Merchant Prince Varric Tethras at your service.” The dwarf swept into a low bow. “And also at our illustrious table, Lord Garrett Hawke and Lady Bethany Hawke.” A tall, dark haired man with a well-trimmed beard stood and bowed, followed by a pretty young woman.

“It’s a delight to meet you,” Anders said by rote, offering a bow. “Prince Consort Anders Lowell.”

“How many times did you practice saying that?” Lord Hawke asked, a wide grin on his face.

Anders blinked and flushed. “About twenty times. I feel like I hesitate too much before the Lowell.”

Hawke let out a guffaw and reached out, slapping Anders heartily on the shoulder. “I like you. You got lucky there, Fen.”

“Hawke, do not call me Fen in polite society,” Fenris groused, though his eyes were crinkled.

“Brother, you’re causing a scene. Mother will come over and you know what that’ll mean.” His sister was tugging on his arm.

“The de Launcet twins.” Hawke shuddered visibly. “What are their names? Squeaky and Naggy?”

Varric coughed and grabbed his glass. “Maker, Hawke. You’re going to get us thrown out.”

“Nonsense. We know the Prince. We’re safe. Right, Fen?” Hawke waggled his eyebrows. “Did I mention how pretty your consort is?”

Anders cleared his throat. “These are your friends, I take it?”

“Mm.” was all Fenris said, eyebrow raised. “If I leave Anders with you while I make the rounds…”

“We’ll watch out for Prince Blondie. You go schmooze. We’ll keep him safe.” Varric patted a chair and grinned. “Want some wine or ale?”

“Ah...ale...please. You’re sure?” Anders turned worried eyes to Fenris.

“We ate, we danced, were harassed by your family - I will make another round and then I am taking us to bed.” Fenris watched as Anders turned bright red. “To sleep.”

Hawke opened his mouth and shut it when Bethany elbowed him in the stomach. She reached out and took Anders’ arm, leading him to a chair. “Sit with me. We lived in Ferelden for a while. I’d like to hear about what you’ll miss.”

Anders gave her a grateful smile and ducked his head at Fenris, who just gave that little half-smile before wandering off.

“So...Ferelden.” Hawke sprawled across from him.

Anders nodded and toyed with his ale. Bethany rolled her eyes. “We lived there when we were younger, but mother’s parents got sick and we moved back here. It’s not too bad, though I’ve heard the Circle is nicer in Ferelden.”

“Oh...are you...are you a mage as well?” Anders looked hopeful. “You know I’m one, right?”

“Everybody knows.” Hawke gave a wide grin. “It was quite the topic of conversation”

“I’m very excited that Prince Fenris is going to allow me to open clinics. Do you know if there are any trained healers?” Anders gave Bethany a hopeful smile. “I can train them but…”

“We aren’t allowed to use magic outside of the Circle.” Bethany was gazing at him in amazement.

“Come again?”

“The Knight Commander has declared no magic usage outside of the Circle,” Bethany explained.

“It’s not their call. In fact, they has no say in that. It’s up to the laws of the land and the First Enchanter.” Anders frowned. “I’m to teach classes as well…”

“You’re going to teach?” Hawke laughed. “Seriously?”

“I taught several classes in Ferelden.” Anders’ face was a study of upset. “Well, I’m just going to have to address this with Fenris. Obviously, I’ll need healers at the clinic - which means magic usage in public. And I refuse to work with a Knight Commander who oversteps their bounds.”

“I would love to be in the room when you handle this, Blondie,” Varric murmured.

Anders gave a slight smile. “I may be a mess when it comes to socializing with nobles, but I am quite sure I understand how a proper Circle is run. Don’t worry, Bethany. I’ll have this fixed.”

Bethany tilted her head and grinned. “I believe you. You’re going to be good for Kirkwall, I can tell.”

“I hope so.” Anders picked up his ale and flushed as Fenris made his way back to the table. “I think this is my cue…”

“Don’t have too much fun with Prince Broody.” Varric waggled his eyebrows, watching in delight as Anders blushed a deep red. “And be gentle, Prince Broody. We’d like to see our newest consort up and around.”

Fenris huffed and offered Anders his arm. Keeping his eyes down, Anders allowed himself to be helped up and led away. He turned and gave a little wave to Bethany, biting his lip when she gave him a thumbs up in return.

“Were they nice to you?” Fenris dropped his arm to grab Anders’ hand instead.

“They were, yes. I’ll want to talk to you about the Circle…” Anders started, blinking when Fenris shook his head.

“Tomorrow is soon enough for work. Tonight, I wish to hold my new consort.” Fenris turned them to the crowd and they both bowed before taking their leave.

***

Orana had laid out his sleep clothes on his bed. There they were - his sleep pants, his sleep tunic...his robe…

Orana bustled in from the dressing room and came to a halt, nose twitching. “Are you going to faint?”

“No.” The word was filled with annoyance.

“Well, you’re pale as a spectre.” She fussed around him, unhooking his doublet before peeling him out of it. A quick turn and shove and he was sitting on the bed and she was tugging off his shoes and hose. “He’s not going to eat you.”

“I’ve never slept next to anyone.” He winced as his voice quavered.

“Anders.” Orana’s eyes were filled with compassion and warmth. “He likes you. I saw him smiling at you. And I like you.” She took his hand in hers and smoothed her fingers over the back. “And if you are...uneducated...in the ways of passion, well. He’ll go slow. Be gentle with you. He’s been excited for this day. Truly.”

“I don’t deserve him,” Anders murmured.

“Piss on that.”Orana sniffed and patted his hand again. “Now let’s get you into your sleep clothes. You may consider no tunic.”

“Orana!” Anders was laughing.

“Mm, but he’d want to see your chest. And such a lovely one too. Lucky for you, these sleep pants seem to cling most attractively.” She leered a bit, laughing when he went pink cheeked.

“See if I let you adjust my pants anymore.” He huffed, though with a small smile. He did pull on the tunic, but left his robe untied. Hesitating, he reached for Pounce.

Orana didn’t say anything, just gave a smile. A minute later and there was a knock at the adjoining door. Anders exhaled, straightened his back, and went to open it.

“Anders.” Fenris stood there in a robe, feet bare and hair slightly mussed. “Ready to go to sleep?”

“Ah. Yes. This is Ser Pounce-a-lot. Pounce, this is Fenris.” Anders watched as Fenris slowly reached out and let Pounce sniff his hand. A few sniffs and Fenris was petting the cat.

“He’s a handsome fellow.” Fenris stepped to the side and tilted his head. “Two handsome men in my bed tonight.”

“Oh Maker.” Anders didn’t know if he wanted to groan or laugh and settled on huffing, moving past Fenris, who closed the door and placed a hand on his back.

“This way,” Fenris murmured, the words gentle. He guided Anders and Pounce through a study and then to the bedroom. Everything was done in creams with ebony finishes. It should have looked austere, cold. But there was a warmth in the pictures chosen, in the dark tiles that shimmered with hints of gold as the fire danced, in the dark red pillows on the chairs. The massive four poster bed was covered in ebony and red covers, silky sheets, and pillows.

Anders gently put Pounce down on a chair near the fire and then shrugged out of his robe. Giving a shy smile, he draped it over the back of the other chair. Fenris gave an encouraging smile and removed his own robe to reveal black sleep pants and no tunic.

He was leanly muscled, dark skin accented with swirls of white tattoos. Anders swallowed slightly and reached for the hem of his tunic, stopping when Fenris held out a hand.

“Let me?” Fenris moved to him slowly, that little smile back on his lips. “Please?”

“Alright…” Anders flushed.

Fenris’ fingers brushed over his hips as he grasped the tunic, slowly pulling it up. Anders bent forward and held his arms out, letting Fenris pull the tunic off. When he straightened, Fenris was draping his tunic with his robe while staring at him.

“You are awfully slender.” His fingers brushed lightly over Anders sternum, then down to his belly.

“I get busy and forget to eat.” Anders shivered at the touch.

Fenris’ fingers slid back up to brush over his collarbone, over the pulse at his neck, and then back down and over one flat nipple. Anders inhaled at the sudden jolt of sensation, and Fenris’ smile seemed to grow a tiny bit.

“And sensitive,” he murmured, more to himself. “Come, let us sleep.”

“Ahh...ok.” Anders walked to the bed and slid under the covers, lying straight as a board. He heard Fenris move around a bit and then the lights dimmed, the room darkening by degrees.

The bed gave a dip and then Fenris was next to him, tugging him from his position right on the edge to the middle to cuddle. Anders rolled to his side at the whispered request, inhaling as Fenris fit himself against his back. One armed draped over his side and Fenris pressed gentle kisses to the back of his neck - the brush of lips making him squirm.

“Mm...is this alright? I wish to kiss you but…” Fenris’ breath warm against his neck.

“You...you can.” Anders rolled to lie flat and blinked as Fenris rose up, sliding over him to lay between his legs. “Just…”

“Trust me,” Fenris whispered before lowering his head, pressing his lips to Anders’. The kiss slowly unfurled from tentative to passionate, Fenris’ tongue lapping lightly over Anders’ lower lip to taste. Anders gasped as the kiss traveled from his lips and over his jaw, down his neck, to his collarbone. There was a sharp sting as Fenris bit lightly and then harder, marking him.

Anders couldn’t seem to stop squirming. The kisses and nibbles were making heat pool in his belly. He didn’t know what to do, where to touch, and grabbed at the sheets and closed his eyes. He could feel, clearly, Fenris’ arousal pressing between his legs. Against his own hard cock. His hips jerked when Fenris nipped at the join of neck and shoulder, and Fenris answered with a slow roll of his hips, the sudden friction making Anders whine and then whimper.

And that noise had Fenris pulling back, a pleased look on his face.

“I could…” His hips rolled again. “We do not have to do much to gain pleasure like this.”

“I don’t…” Anders bit down on a moan. “It’s…”

Fenris’ gaze gentled. “Too much. Isn’t it.” He pressed his hips down once more and then slid off of Anders. “I am rushing you.”

“No...it’s…” Anders babbled, suddenly feeling abandoned. “You...but…”

And then Fenris was gathering him close, arms around him. “You really are too slender. I will need to remedy this. But you feel good here.” There was a gentle press of lips to his forehead. “Sleep Anders. I have you.”

And Anders found that he could. That the feeling of arms, the warmth...it helped. As the sudden spurt of arousal drained away, his body relaxed. There was a soft mrrp as Pounce jumped onto the bed and curled against his back. Cat nestled against him, head nuzzled against Fenris’ chest, Anders let himself slip into the Fade.


	3. The Circle

Fenris put off talk of the Circle for a week. In fact, he put off work in general for a week in favor of showing Anders around the Keep and around Kirkwall. It was, Fenris said, a poor substitute for a honeymoon trip. Anders assured him that the last thing he wanted to do was get back on a boat or in a carriage and travel to someplace that was also new. He prefered, he said, to learn about his new home.

They spent the week together talking, wandering the Keep, wandering the gardens, and walking through the city. It was peaceful, pleasant...more pleasant than Anders had expected.

In the evenings they would retire to Fenris’ room and curl up together, kiss, and snuggle. Fenris didn’t push and Anders didn’t try to move forward. When he asked Fenris if it was ok if they just stayed like this for a while, he had given a little half-smile and said yes.

It made Anders relax.

The week passed slowly, seven days of blissful peace and companionship. The last night of the week, Fenris turned to him and asked if Anders would consider this as his bedroom...if he would come to bed every night with Fenris. Anders agreed.

***

On the eighth day, Anders sat down with Fenris and read the reports from the Circle. The reports Fenris received weekly but never really looked over. What he found was...disturbing.

“Your Knight Commander is overstepping her boundaries.” Anders threw a report down. “She is locking non-noble born mages away, refusing family visits...refusing to allow them to aid the city. You are being hobbled because she is a bigot.”

Fenris leaned back in his chair. “Explain?”

“The Knight Commander’s job is very clear. They are to maintain security in the Circle, provide the mages a safe place to study, and investigate magical problems. That is it. The running of the Circle falls strictly under the purview of the First Enchanter.” Anders tried to calm down. “The Circle is there to teach mages and to provide education and experience as a mage matures. As their magic settles, the First Enchanter has them evaluated. Should they be capable, they take jobs. If not, they are not allowed to work magic in public. It’s quite simple. Those who wish a life outside the Circle are allowed it. Those who wish to spend their life studying, are allowed. The Knight Commander isn’t even Chantry ordained. It’s a position usually discussed between the Ruler and the Grand Cleric. They answer to the Chantry and the King...or in your case, the Prince.”

Fenris tapped at the armrest of his chair. “Is this how the Circle is run in Ferelden?”

“And in Orlais, the Anderfels...Ostwick…everywhere, really. I only know of one other Circle that places such power in their Knight Commander and that’s Starkhaven...and their Knight Commander is practically a married to the Chantry.” Anders picked up another report and gasped. “She is asking for permission to make more mages Tranquil. Tell me you sent her a missive saying no.”

“I...I do not...I have Bran go over these.” Fenris swallowed at the anger on Anders’ face. “I am sorry. I have obviously erred. My father appointed Meredith to Knight Commander. He was very devout and that translated to being more strict with magic. He had long desired a joining with Starkhaven, another city that is very strict with magic. I never thought to question Meredith’s job.”

Anders pinched his nose. “You realize she is a danger to me, yes? I am a mage. Even as your consort, I must still answer to the laws of the Chantry and Circle.”

“Anders.” Fenris leaned forward. “I would not allow her to touch you.”

“Every mage is somebody’s brother, sister, lover, husband...wife...mother...father… Fenris. These are people. They have a gift; a gift that needs training and guidance, yes. But it is a gift. There are so few of us…” Anders’ fingers twitched.

“You have my full authority and the authority of the Chantry behind you. If she is flaunting Chantry law, fix it,” Fenris said finally.

“And if that means replacing her?” Anders chewed on the corner of his lip.

“Do you have a replacement in mind?” That little smile was back.

Any time Anders pushed, involved himself in the affairs of the City, or let his opinion be known, Fenris got that little smile on his face. Anders was beginning to realize it was approval. Seeing it now, his heart beat a hair faster and warmed.

“I do. We have a Knight Captain in Ferelden. He is older, and if my Da hadn’t had the audacity to have four boys, he would have been Knight Commander. Greagoir is firm but fair. He understands the need for safety and rules, but is gentle. He works well with our First Enchanter. He would be a good fit.” Anders gave a wry smile. “He, ah, he’s known me since I was a boy.”

“Oh?” Fenris’ smile grew. “And?”

“I may have been a tad wild.” Anders coughed and looked at his hands. “He may have caught me slithering out of the Circle window. Using sheets.”

“And why were you trying to climb down the tower wall with sheets?” Fenris’ smile had grown wide, his eyes twinkling.

“Er…” Anders squirmed under that gaze. “We had been on a field trip and there had been this busty barmaid. She was all bouncing curls and bosoms. I was sixteen. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

There was a moment of silence and then a chuckle. “Did you ever get to see her?”

“Your question is, did I get to tup her. And the answer is no. Greagoir found me, hauled me up, and sent me to see my brother, Cailan. I was lectured to within an inch of my life about how I was already betrothed and then a guard was assigned to me. It was...well.” Anders shook his head. “Ah well...youthful follies.”

Fenris had gone quiet, his hands back to tapping on the armrests. “You are twenty-five, correct?”

“That’s correct. The age specified in the betrothal contract.” Anders tilted his head. “Why?”

“Did you ever get to kiss a pretty girl...or boy for that matter?” Fenris wondered.

Anders frowned slightly. He plucked at his trousers, weighing the urge to lie with the need to be truthful. “Karl,” He said finally. “I met another mage named Karl. He and I...we flirted. He was my first kiss. My first crush.”

“Where is he?” Fenris stood, walking around the desk and stopping next to Anders.

“Back in Ferelden. I left him in charge of the clinic in Denerim. Cailan wanted him gone, but I said that if he made Karl leave, I’d run away. Cailan agreed and had me moved instead.” Anders gave a slight smile. “I took over running a lovely clinic in Redcliffe. Convenient. The Arl could keep an eye on me, and I was pretty much landlocked. And with the lake right there, it was easy to get to the Circle. Until I came here, I spent almost my time in the clinic or the Circle, always with my guard, and always kept busy.”

“Anders.” Fenris laid a hand on his shoulder and sighed. “I am sorry about Karl.”

Shrugging, Anders looked up. “You’ve been so patient with me. I couldn’t...you’re better than I had expected.”

That little smile was back. Squeezing his shoulder, Fenris tilted his head. “I shall take care of the missive requesting your Greagoir. I shall send you to the Circle tomorrow with a guard and...mm...you need somebody to stand with you. Lord Hawke. His sister is a mage, and they are a Ferelden family. It will look...appropriate. I will have a writ done with my seal. It will guarantee that your words are mine.”

“You aren’t upset with me?” Anders stood, allowing himself to pulled into an embrace.

“No.” The word was gentle. “At your brother? Most certainly. You? Not at all.”

“I don’t understand you. Didn’t you expect me to come to you untouched? Everybody made such a big deal out of it...out of my...I was to bring you prestige, honor, the backing of Ferelden, and children. You were gaining something valuable in me. And we were gaining a foothold in the Free Marches. This allows us to bypass Orlais for trade. It opens up routes to the Anderfels…” Anders pressed his face to Fenris’ neck.

“So obviously I should be keeping you naked and in my bed and later naked and pregnant.” Fenris’ voice was dry. “I did not expect a virginal consort, Anders. Nor did I marry you for heirs. We will have one, eventually. But...that was not what I was hoping for.”

“Anora and Cailan rarely share rooms.” Anders pulled back, smoothing a hand over his embroidered tunic. “I thought…”

Fenris cupped Anders’ chin. “I like you sleeping next to me.”

“Well.” Anders flushed. “I like sleeping next to you, too.”

Fenris gave that little half-smile and stepped back. “I shall get this writ handled.”

“I’ll go find Orana. I’ll need help getting my robes together for tomorrow.” Anders frowned. “They are probably creased.”

“Robes?” Fenris moved back around to his seat, pulling out parchment and a heavy wax seal. “Truly?”

“Fancy robes,” Anders assured him, following him and bending down to press a kiss to Fenris’ cheek.

Fenris hummed happily. “Anders?”

“Yes?” Anders had turned to leave the room.

“That was the first time since our wedding that you kissed me without me asking.” Fenris caught his eyes. “I liked it.”

“Oh well.” Anders coughed. “Ah...robes...yes.” He gave his husband a little nod and walked swiftly from the room. He most certainly didn’t think about how much he wished he had gotten to kiss Fenris’ lips.

***

Orana was sitting on the chair in the dressing room watching Anders fuss with the shoulder clasps of his robe. He would drop his arms, tilt his head at his reflection in the floor length mirror, and then give a sigh. He had been at it for ten minutes.

“You know, a tunic would work just as well.” Orana pointed out.

“Hah,” Anders barked, unbuckling the shoulders and resettling them. Another minute of clasps and he nodded. “Finally.”

“Maker. What is the point of all the clasps and buckles?” Orana hopped up to smooth her hand over his chest. “You can’t even tell this is a separate piece.”

“Shortly after Tevinter had their little hiccup and lost the Imperium, the Chantry used the Circles as a way to imprison mages. Part of that imprisonment was the robe. They were heavily embroidered affairs designed to resemble the robes worn by Chantry sisters, only with enchantments woven into them to control our magic.” Anders picked up a wide belt and buckled it around his narrow waist. A Chantry sun bisected by an open book formed the buckle.

“When the Circles rebelled, burning the towers, the Chantry was forced into a reform. Mages are rare and useful. The Chantry had been working their mages like slaves. And like slaves, there was an uprising. But unlike Tevinter, who sees uprisings every few years and does nothing, the Chantry changed. Divine Faustina II saw the writing on the wall and remade the Circles as they are now.” Anders nodded and draped an ornate necklace over his head, the pendant also in the shape of a Chantry sun bisected by an open book. This one held two hands making a sign, words scribed underneath reading ‘For the Maker We Heal’.

“And the robes?” Orana smiled and patted the necklace.

“We kept them to remind us that our magic should serve what is best in us, not rule us. It is Maker sent, a gift to glorify, not to hurt. Any mage who goes maleficar turns their back on that.” Anders shrugged. “I think it’s a bit of nug shit propaganda, but I’d rather wear the robe than be turned back into a slave.” He picked up his hat and scowled.

“What’s wrong?” Orana asked, her voice drifting away when the cowl was slipped on. “Oh...Anders…”

“I know it has a feather on top, thank you very much. Pounce has eaten exactly five of these. He starts at the feather and then eats off the embroidery. I’ll thank you to not laugh,” Anders said stiffly.

Orana was busy shaking her head when there was an inhale and then a loud guffaw from the dressing room doorway. Anders turned to find his husband standing there, tears in his eyes.

“Delightful.” The word was said with much annoyed resignation.

“What is on your head?” Fenris walked into the room, nodding at Orana as she skipped out. “You look like an angry Chantry mum.”

“Shut up.” Anders groused, turning his head away.

“Will you spank me if I’m naughty? Rap my hand with a ruler? Mm?” Fenris sidled up to him, hands reaching out to pull Anders close. “These robes are very...attractive. Surprising.”

“Fenris, they took forever to get on.” Anders squirmed at the hands skimming over his ass. “Maker!”

“And if I was to slide my hand under the skirts...what would I find I wonder?” Fenris pressed himself closer, eyes teasing. “I can see some benefit to these. I should have more made for you.”

“Fenris...I…” Anders’ words became garbled as he was pulled into a kiss. He clutched at Fenris, moaning softly.

Fenris pulled back first, licking his lips and exhaling hard. “I shall need to start wooing you. Yes.”

Anders gazed at him in a daze, eyes hazy with arousal. “Woo?”

“The more I taste you, the more I want you,” Fenris admitted. “But I will wait. I will be slow and careful. You will beg me for more.”

“That’s just…” Anders protested.

“There will come a time where you will be under me naked, splayed and aroused. And you will beg me to take you. And then, then I will,” Fenris promised. “And you will feel nothing but pleasure. I promise you.”

Anders wondered if he had gained some weight. His robes felt tight in the chest and neck, the fabric itchy and hot as his mind conjured an image of him on Fenris’ bed, Fenris naked and touching him. There was fear but anticipation as well. He could feel it curling in his belly.

“Maybe you’ll beg.” The words spilled from him.

Fenris grinned. “I may let you make me.”

Anders flushed and shuffled. He watched Fenris rock on his feet - something like satisfaction in his eyes. It made Anders feel bold, to know he was wanted so thoroughly. He moved without thinking, leaning down the little bit needed to press his lips against Fenris’, nibbled and licked until Fenris opened to him. Then he deepened the kiss.

They were both panting when they drew apart.

“I should...Lord Hawke…” Anders cleared his throat.

“Be safe, Amatus.” The little smile was firmly planted on Fenris’ lips. “Come back to me safely. I would hate to have to march on my own Circle.”

The thought that Fenris found him that worthy put a bounce in Anders’ step. Enough of one for Lord Hawke to catch it as he practically skipped his way down the keep’s stairs.

“Newlyweds.” Hawke chuckled. “And look at that blush. Maker. I don’t want to know. Tell Varric.”

“Wretch.” Anders murmured, nodding at the friendly looking guardsman. “I’m Prince Consort Anders.”

“First Lieutenant Donnic Hendry, at your service. My wife, the Guard Captain, sends her regards Your Majesty.” Donnic gave a curt bow.

“Just Anders till we are at the Circle. Then you can Prince me all you want,” Anders said, making Hawke laugh.

“This should be fun. Come on you two.” Anders gave a Bran a snooty look and sailed through the front doors.

“Hey Anders.” Hawke called as they moved down the stairs to the waiting carriage. “I like your hat. That feather really makes it go with that dress.”

Donnic choked and smoothed out his face. Anders gave him a look and he coughed. “It is a lovely hat, Consort.”

“I hate you both.” Anders muttered, getting into the carriage. “So much.”

***

Kirkwall’s Circle was housed in the old Tevinter styled prison. The building was massive and forbidding, situated on an island with a broad bridge built to contain traffic to and from the Circle and its shops. Built in grey and ivory stone, the edifice loomed over Lowtown and part of Hightown, massive bronze statues of slaves lining the courtyard and stairs up to the main entrance.

Anders made a note to talk to Fenris about having the statues removed. Maybe, since they were historic, they could be relocated and a memorial erected to commemorate the slaves who gave their lives building this city. It would do much to lighten the oppressive atmosphere and maintain what had to be a cultural relic.

The way to the main door was, predictably, several flights of stairs. The doors into the Gallows loomed two stories tall and had metal reinforcements. Anders made another note to see about better doors - ones that didn’t scream prison - being installed at the Circle. Lord Hawke watched him scribble in his book and glanced around, clearly unhappy with being here.

“It’s a horrible place run by a terrible person,” Hawke said finally.

“Never did understand why we lock the robes up,” Donnic mumbled. Anders glanced at him and he flushed. “I meant the mages, sorry.”

“No worries.” Anders closed his book with a thump. “I have to admit the robe is very...noticeable.” He pushed on the doors and stepped into the entryway. A templar rushed up to him, sword out.

“Mages are not to be in the courtyard.” The templar loomed over Anders.

“And templars don’t get to tell me what to do. Go tell the Knight Commander that Prince Consort Anders is here.” Anders drew himself up to his full height and pulled his staff from his back. “Now.”

“I don’t answer to a robe.” The templar sneered.

“I see.” Anders shook his head. “No, don’t even bother attempting to silence me. I can tell that’s what you’re about to do. Donnic?”

“Stand down. This is Prince Fenris’ Consort. He carries the official seal of the Prince of Kirkwall.” Donnic stepped forward.

The templar hissed out a breath. “Fucking robes.”

“Heard that. Nevermind, I’ll find her myself. These places are always laid out the same.” Anders brushed by the templar. He headed down a side hallway, ignoring the sputtering from behind him. “Well, that just proves I’m needed here.”

“Are you alright?” Hawke was striding next to him, a worried look on his face.

“Mm, yes. Though I think Fenris is going to be a mite upset at the Knight Commander.” Anders tapped his chin and came to a stop next to a door. It held a symbol like on his belt with the words First Enchanter spelled out. “Perfect.” He didn’t knock, just opened the door.

The First Enchanter was an elf. Tall and willowy and dressed in one of the ubiquitous robes. He stood up from behind his desk and blinked. “May I help you?”

“First Enchanter?” Anders gave a smile, pulling off his hat.

“Yes, I am First Enchanter Orsino. And you are?”

“Prince Consort Anders. I am here to talk to the Knight Commander. Well, I am here to relieve the Knight Commander from her duty. As the First Enchanter, I will need you present.” Anders widened his smile. “And after that, we shall discuss what classes I can teach and which of your mages show promise as healers.”

“You’re doing...what?” Orsino gaped.

“Just follow me, Orsino.” Anders hummed. “You know, First Enchanter Irving and I were on a first name basis. Had tea every other Tuesday.”

“He’s in Ferelden, yes?” Orsino huffed after Anders.

“Mm. Yes. Kinloch Hold. How much work do you think it would be to pull down those horrid statues?” Anders stopped in front of a door with Knight Commander Meredith emblazoned on it.

“The ones out front? Oh...well…” Orsino scratched at his chin. “With a few mages, not too hard. Why?”

“I’m going to have them pulled down and relocated. They’re an eyesore and frankly make me think of a prison. This is a place of learning; it should reflect that.” Anders didn’t bother to knock; he just opened the door and walked in.

The Knight Commander was an imposing woman: stern face, cold eyes, and an aura of cruelty. Her eyes swept over Anders and narrowed. “Who are you and why have you just barged in here?”

“Knight Commander Meredith, I presume?” Anders drew himself up. “I am Prince Consort Anders Lowell.”

“Ahh, yes. I had heard our Prince Fenris had married his mage broodmare fiance. Have you come to register yourself? We will have to discuss with the Prince your run of the Keep. It is unseemly for a mage to have such freedoms. Perhaps a few templars stationed at the Keep to watch, yes. That could work.” Meredith leaned back in her chair, her lips thinning. “I tried to talk his father out of this match, but the man was dead set in joining Kirkwall with your backwards Ferelden.”

There was the soft sound of jangling armor as Donnic shifted at the perceived threat. Anders ignored it, instead offering Meredith a toothy smile. “Ah, I am not here to register myself. You lack the authority. ” Anders lowered himself into a seat and watched with interest as Meredith’s lips tightened further. “No, I am here to discuss you.”

“Me? What right…” Meredith’s breath exploded from her.

“This gives me every right.” Anders’ voice was cold as he pulled the Writ from his pouch. “You have been denying the mages their rights under Chantry law. According to your reports, the amount of tranquil has almost doubled in the last two years. You have been making mages who passed all tests tranquil, a clear violation of Chantry edicts.”

“You have no…” Meredith tried again.

“I have every right. You are relieved of duty, Knight Commander. A message to your replacement was sent yesterday. You will vacate the Gallows today or I will have you removed.” Anders’ voice rang with authority.

“You dare. A mage. You have used blood magic, have corrupted the Prince. I will have you made tranquil. I will have you hawking wares in the courtyard.” Meredith stood, reaching for her sword.

“I wouldn’t, Meredith. I wouldn’t think to resort to violence or to petty threats. The Prince gave me leave to relieve you. I am here with his full support. Should you wish to discuss this, then you may come with me to the Keep. But you will come with your items packed and your room vacated.” Anders glanced up at Orsino. “Her second in command is a Ser Alrik, correct?”

“Yes Your Majesty.” Orsino was shaking.

“His name was in several reports. Who is under him?” Anders tapped a finger on Meredith’s desk, ignoring her for the moment.

“Ah, Ser Kerras.” Orsino’s eyes grew wide.

“By your expression, one of her cronies. Who is available that isn’t a part of her treachery?” Anders stood, nodding to Donnic. “Donnic, take Meredith to her rooms. Make sure she packs her belongings.”

“Ah...Ser Thrask, Your Majesty.” Orsino was wringing his hands.

“Find him for me. I will wait here.” Anders stared at Meredith. “Donnic. Should she try to run, hobble her. I can heal any damage later.”

“You...I will write to Val Royeaux. The Divine will hear of this!” Meredith spat, wrenching her arm away from Donnic and striding out of the room.

“I met The Divine once.” Anders mused, watching as Orsino rushed off. “She seemed nice.”

“You ok?” Hawke reached for his shoulder, steadying him.

“I hate confrontations, and she’s terrifying.” Anders gave Hawke a slight smile. “Bethany will be safe now. The mages will be safe. Greagoir is a good man - older and well versed in how a Circle should be run.”

Hawke watched as he moved around the Knight Commander’s desk, opening drawers and pulling out ledgers. Sitting in the now vacant chair, Anders because to read through the first few pages, frowning at what he found. The sound of armor had him looking up.

“Your Majesty. I am Ser Thrask.” A tall, red-haired man with gentle eyes bowed.

“Ser Thrask. I am appointing you Knight-Captain. The Circle is in your care until Knight Commander Greagoir arrives.” Anders tapped the book. “This shows three young apprentices scheduled for tranquility tomorrow. I wish them brought up from the dungeons and taken care of. Orsino, you will evaluate them. If they are afraid of their magic, then put them through remediation. If they show signs of weak magic, have them evaluated for safety and release them to their families. If they simply got in trouble, assign proper punishments.”

“What happened to Meredith?” Thrask watched Orsino bustle out after a bow.

“Relieved of duty.” Anders gave a tight smile. “I need you to give me a list of all the templars who will cause trouble. They will be given proper retirements and released from duty. Those who have been in the order long enough to need the increase in lyrium rations will receive them as part of their retirement.”

“You fired Meredith?” Thrask was gaping at him.

“I did.” Anders laughed. “She is quite peeved with me.”

Thrask glanced down and then back up. “I’ll need something official…”

“Ah.” Anders pulled out parchment and a quill. A few scratches across the parchment and then he was pulling out wax. Removing his wedding ring, he heated the wax stick and dribbled a small amount on the parchment and pressed his ring to it. “The official Seal of the Consort. And doesn’t that sound fancy?”

Thrask took the parchment gingerly while Hawke grinned. “Have you ever done this before?”

“I was trained well by my Da and older brother. I had classes in leadership and diplomacy, statehood, law...the full works. They didn’t want me to be an embarrassment.” Anders stood. “Knight-Captain, congratulations on your promotion.”

“Ah...thank you Your Majesty. I’ll...I’ll go see your will done.” Thrask offered another bow, backing out of the room.

“Right, well.” Anders gazed around the office, frowning. “I should have talked to Orsino about my teaching, but I suppose that can wait. And the clinics have to wait until I have evaluated locations anyway.”

“You’re seriously opening clinics in Kirkwall?” Hawke leaned against the desk, eyes on Anders.

“I am. In...what is it called...Hightown, we’ll charge. The money brought in will help pay for the clinic in the poorest areas. The Lowtown area, is that the correct name? That one will have a nominal charge. I usually work in the poorest neighborhood.” Anders tapped his chin. “I wonder how much wheedling that will involve.”

“That’s amazing. This is all amazing.” Hawke shook his head. “You’re amazing.”

Anders flushed. “This is my life’s work - teaching, helping people. If I had been left alone…”

“You coming here has made lives better, Anders.” Hawke reached out to clasp his shoulder. “Look what you are doing - you are saving lives here. You couldn’t have done this from Ferelden.”

Anders gazed around the office of the Knight Commander and gave a shy smile. “Thank you. It means a lot. Truly.”

“Say, do you play Wicked Grace?” Hawke gave Anders’ shoulder a final squeeze.

“I do. Poorly.”

“I’ll have to see if Prince Broody will bring you to our next card game night. At my mansion, of course. Food, drinks, cards, company. It’ll be fun.” Hawke heard the sound of metal on stone and peeked out the door. “Meredith and Donnic.”

“I’d...I’d enjoy that. I’ll talk to Fenris.” Anders gave Hawke another shy smile and then moved to the hall. “Shall we?”

“I can’t wait for the Prince to put you in your place.” Meredith was scowling, a line of templars behind her holding trunks.

“Yes well…” Anders tried to think of something to say. “It’ll be an interesting visit with him for sure.” A nod at Donnic and they moved down the hall and out of the Gallows to the waiting carriage.

***

“Your Majesty!” Meredith was gaping.

“Did you not see the Writ my consort was carrying? Did you not note the seal?” Fenris was sitting on his throne, Meredith standing like a petitioner at the base of the stairs, the gallery filled with chattering nobles.

“Your consort is a mage, Your Majesty. He has no right…” Meredith tried again.

“You are wrong. I had the matter looked into and you have been violating the laws set forth by the Chantry. Prince Consort Anders was there with my blessing, Meredith.”

“You can’t…” she tried again.

“I have already sent for your replacement. You are being sent under armed guard to Val Royeaux. The Grand Cleric is going with you. Unfortunately for you both, she signed off on several of your more illegal decisions.” Fenris was tapping his fingers on the throne’s armrest.

“No...you can’t…” Meredith gasped.

Fenris just waved his hand. “It is my decision that you shall be housed under guard here. Your templars will be vetted and any found wanting will be retired from the order. Those who have need will be granted lyrium for the remainder of their lives. Knight-Captain Alrik and Ser Karras will be traveling with you to Orlais, also under guard. You shall leave as soon as I have finished with arrangements.” He nodded and several guard stepped forward to take Meredith’s shoulders in a tight grip.

“You have been bewitched. Your consort is a blood mage, a maleficar. A whore sent to undermine the will of the Maker. Can’t you see it? Mages need watching, they need to be kept locked and safe…” Meredith strained forward. “Your marriage this...abomination...will end in ruin.”

The entire throne room went silent. Prince Fenris stood, face set in anger. “You dare.”

“He will never be safe. I will be absolved and I will…” Her words were cut off, breath gurgling in her throat.

“Unfortunate,” was all Fenris said.

The guard pulled back the dagger and bowed to Prince Fenris. “What shall we do with her, Your Majesty?”

“She threatened my consort, but she did serve the Chantry. Have her body prepared, preserved, and sent to Val Royeaux. Seneschal Bran, have the notes from this hearing transposed and sent along as well. Guard Captain, have the templars Alrik and Karras brought in and placed in the dungeon. We will send word to Val Royeaux.”

The Guard Captain bowed and turned, rushing from the room. The two guardsmen standing with the body bowed as well and left - carrying the body between them. Servants appeared to mop and clean the floor and the nobles began to talk amongst themselves.

Satisfied, Prince Fenris left to find Anders.

***

He found Anders in his room curled on the bed and petting Pounce. Dressed in a comfortable tunic and pants, he looked a little rumpled and very much at home. His voice whispered to his cat, soft words that were answered with little chirps and purrs. It made Fenris smile.

“Anders.”

“Oh...Fenris. How did it go?” Anders smiled at his husband.

“She threatened you.” Fenris frowned.

“Oh...it’s to be expected...I…” Anders bit his lip and closed his eyes. “Nobody said this would be easy.”

“She is dead.” The words were said with little emotion.

“What?”

“She cannot simply threaten my consort. I will not allow her or anyone to hurt you.” Fenris took another step forward. “You mean too much…”

Anders rolled from the bed and stood, stumbling forward and into Fenris’ arms. “I’m fine.”

“I will not let you be harmed, Anders.” Fenris tightened his arm, holding Anders close.

Anders nuzzled his face against Fenris’ neck and sighed. “You’re tense.”

“I am upset. It is natural.”

“How about a bath?” Anders pulled back and smiled. “I could draw you one.”

“And would you join me in it?” There was a hint of flirting there in the tilt of the head and half-smile.

“I will wash your back,” Anders bargained.

“And do I get a kiss?” Fenris widened his eyes. “It was a rough audience.”

Anders gave a chuff of a laugh. “I’ll scrub your back and give you two kisses.”

“You are terrible at negotiations. Remind me to not let you sit in on a trade meeting.” Fenris hummed, poking Anders’ side.

“Only with you. I’m pretty good at negotiations when it comes to business.” Anders seemed to realize his words and blushed. Fenris just chuckled and headed for his bathing room.

Anders watched him stride ahead and gave a little smile. It felt good to be so cared for...and teased...good and awkward and wonderful. Rubbing lightly at his chest, he followed his husband thinking maybe he’d sneak in one more kiss. Just for good measure.


	4. Wooing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some NSFW thrown into a whole lotta fluff

A week after the Meredith incident, Anders walked into his sitting room and came to a stop. Every surface of the sitting room was covered in plants and flowers. Herbs of all kinds shared space with bouquets of roses, carnations, asters, and hydrangeas. Fenris had to have sent away to a hot house for most of the plants. The herbs were all in containers - live plants that Anders could tend. He gazed at the fragrant collection and felt a spurt of warmth.

The warmth grew as he went to seek out his husband - who was in his office and bent over paperwork.

“Do you have a minute?” Anders asked from the doorway, hands twisting in his tunic.

“For you, always.” Fenris smiled and sat back, gesturing for Anders to enter.

“I saw the plants.” Anders said while walking across the room. “They’re all magnificent. The herbs most of all.”

“I thought you could look over what I got and tell me what I missed.” Fenris scooted his chair back and reached out, tugging Anders to stand between him and the desk.

“Missed? I’m not following.” Anders rolled his eyes a bit, but sat on the desk carefully, moving paperwork out of the way.

“Ah.” Fenris stood, placing his hands on either side of Anders and leaning forward. “I believe the paperwork is on my desk - under your very attractive rear. I am having a greenhouse built in the garden - for you. For your herbs. The ones you will need in your clinic.”

“You...but…” Anders gaped slightly. “A greenhouse?”

“Did you not have one in Denerim?” Fenris pressed forward, and Anders parted his legs so that Fenris could stand between them. “How did you get your herbs?”

“The Circle’s garden and greenhouse.” Anders inhaled as Fenris leaned against him, a small smile on his face. “Fenris…”

“May I kiss you?” Fenris rubbed their noses together.

Anders’ answer was to angle his head and lean forward that last inch, brushing their lips together. He pulled back and whispered, “Thank you for this.”

Fenris smiled and stepped back, “Worth every second of planning.”

***

Anders was beginning to suspect that Fenris wasn’t done when a week later he sat at his desk and found an envelope with his name on it. Opening the envelope netted him instructions to meet with Donnic and Lady Bethany Hawke downstairs at two. Anders pondered the instructions, glanced at the little wind-up dwarven clock on his desk, and stood.

“Orana,” he called.

“Right here, Anders.” She bustled out of the dressing room with pants in her hand. “What do you think of these?”

“They’re pants. Black pants.” Anders blinked at her grin. “What?”

“Put them on.” She laid them on the bed and went back into the dressing room.

“Blasted...bossy...woman…” Anders tugged off his tunic and trousers and held out the black pants. “Are these new? These look new. Why do I have new pants?”

“Just put them on,” Orana called, laughter in her voice. “Stop frowning at them. I can tell you are.”

“Nagging...difficult…” Anders muttered and slid the pants on, stopping when Orana bustled back out. “What?”

“Put these on too,” she tossed him a pair of black smalls.

“I’m wearing smalls.” Anders pointed at his hips. “Smalls...see…”

“These are better smalls. Give me your old ones. I’ll have them washed and put away for days you need to get grimy.” Orana tapped her foot and lifted an eyebrow. “Move it, mister. You have an appointment.”

Letting go of the pants, Anders stepped to the side and slid off his smalls. He’d gotten used to Orana seeing him naked. There was still a slight moment of hesitation, but she kept her eyes on his chest, frowning. “You’re filling out. Good.”

Rolling his eyes, he pulled on the new smalls.

“These are silk.”

“They’re lovely. Put your pants on.” she ordered as she bustled off.

“Put your pants on.” Anders mimicked as he followed her orders, lacing the pants while huffing. He wiggled his hips. “These feel funny. They feel like they’re...I don’t...it’s...distracting.”

“Your bits with get used to them.” She strode up and thrust a shirt at him. “Tuck it in.”

“Yes, mother.” Anders pulled on the shirt and tied the laces, tucking the hem into his pants.

Lips twitching, she handed him a long coat. It was black wool - a brushed, soft wool that felt nearly weightless. Fitted at the waist, it looked like a robe but warmer and more functional. Anders shrugged it on and buttoned it. Orana hummed and nudged him to his chair so she could fix his hair.

“Handsome. You look so handsome,” she praised him.

Anders was bright red from embarrassment. “Stop it.”

Giving a laugh, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “You love every second of me.”

“I do,” he murmured.

“Now get...your guests should be waiting on you.”

“What do you know about all of this?” Anders stood and reached for his staff, eyes narrowed on her face.

She just hummed and started picking up clothing, a clear sign that he wasn’t getting an answer. He gave another huff and left the room, rolling his eyes at all the stairs between him and the front door of the Keep. It was ridiculous how many stairs he traveled on a daily basis.

Ten minutes later and he met Bran just heading to the front door to let in guests - his guests. Donnic gave a curt bow and Lady Bethany rushed over to offer him a hug.

“You look so handsome. Prince Fenris thought you might enjoy having company.” Bethany entwined her arm with his.

“Where are we going?” Anders gazed down at the pretty young woman, admiring her wide amber eyes and dark hair.

“That’s a surprise!” Bethany gave a grin. “Ready, Donnic?”

“Yes M’lady. This way Prince...I mean Anders.” Donnic turned to walk out the front door and to a waiting carriage. “It’s not far.”

“Maker. A mysterious note, new clothing, a carriage ride...guests. What did I do?” Anders climbed into the carriage and sat down, smiling a little when Bethany chose to sit next to him. “How is the new Knight-Captain?”

“Thrask is a dear. And Orsino seems so much happier. I’m happier. I was evaluated and approved to teach apprentices.” Bethany bounced a little on the seat.

“Congratulations.” Anders beamed. “What will you teach?”

“Introduction to Elemental magic. I’m very talented with fire and ice,” Bethany explained, patting her staff that was propped next to her.

“My focus is Creation, but I am quite proficient with electricity,” Anders explained, smiling at his own staff.

“A Spirit Healer, correct?” The carriage lurched and Anders reached out to steady her.

“I am.”

“I heard they are rare.” Bethany sounded impressed. “Lucky you.”

“So lucky I was betrothed at the age of twelve,” Anders teased.

“Then Prince Fenris is lucky,” Bethany said firmly. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

“But it’s only been a few minutes.”

“I know. You’ll be able to walk when the weather is nice.” Bethany clapped as the carriage slowed and then came to a stop. A minute and the door swung open and she was helped out. Anders followed and then Donnic.

They were at a tall, narrow building with wide, carved double doors. Anders glanced at Bethany and moved to open the door when she gestured.

The doors led them into a long room filled with benches. A table was set at the back of the room, several chairs behind it. Behind that was a an arch and a hallway that led further back to a series of small rooms and one good-sized room.

The larger room in the back was set up with a cot, more tables, potion making supplies, and a rack filled with empty vials. Anders blinked as he looked around and then focused on Bethany. “Is this what I think it is?”

“See, you have an exam room here, the smaller rooms can be for patients that need to stay, and upstairs is space for your helpers to live. Prince Fenris has accommodations for one mage and two assistants.” Bethany bounced.

Donnic chuckled at Anders’ befuddled face. “This will be the first of three clinics. Prince Fenris knows you prefer to work in the poorer districts, but clinics there will take time to set up. I’m being assigned as your personal bodyguard, by the way. I hope you find that satisfactory.”

“Do you?” Anders was beside himself.

“I am quite honored. The work you are doing will help Kirkwall, and to be asked to protect you...well…” Donnic’s smile bloomed. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Maker…” Anders rubbed at his eyes. “He said he was going to woo me but an entire clinic?”

Bethany took his hand and squeezed it. “He must love you very much.”

“We just...we’ve only been...it hasn’t been long enough…” Anders fumbled with his words.

“He showed us every update, every picture, every glowing report. He fell for you years ago, Anders. He’s trying to get you to see that. Let him spoil you.” Bethany squeezed his hand again. “Give him a chance. I know this is all terribly new to you, but he wants you happy.”

Anders gazed around at the clinic. His heart swelled and it made him blush. “I will. I promise. So...is this it or...can we stop for tea and cakes to celebrate?”

“I know just the place.” Bethany bounced. “Donnic?”

“He’s the boss, I just follow behind and look menacing.” Donnic shook his head. “Is it the bakery around the corner with the little Orlesian cakes?”

“Yes!” Bethany tugged on Anders’ hand, and he let her drag him out to the carriage. “Just wait till you taste them. And pick up a few of the apple tartlets for Prince Fenris. They’re his favorite.”

“I think I might,” murmured Anders. “It sounds like a solid plan.”

***

Box tucked under his arm, Anders strode to Fenris’ study, sighing when he saw his husband still at his desk working. “You should be done.”

Glancing up, Fenris’ gave his little smile. “We haven’t been married long and already you are nagging me away from work.”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you…” Anders sat on one of the chairs across from Fenris. “About the clinic.”

Tilting his head, Fenris leaned back and nodded. “What did you think?”

“I think you’re spoiling me. I think you’re slightly cracked. That your idea of wooing me is to give me a greenhouse and clinic is beyond anything I could have even dreamed about.” Anders leaned forward. “And that you must not be done seeing as how my rooms are locked.”

Lips twitching, Fenris shrugged. “It will be a few weeks from what I understand. Your things have been moved to our room.”

“Ours?” Anders stood. “Is that where my clothing is?”

“And Pounce.” Fenris stood as well. “What is in the box?”

Anders glanced down at the box, stood, and hummed. “I’ll give it to you in our room.”

“Tease.” Fenris stalked to him, placing one hand on his back. “I approve. Shall we?”

Anders gave a light laugh and allowed himself to be led back down the hall. “You approve of me teasing?”

“Mm, I do.” Fenris turned them to head up a short set of stairs. “It means you are becoming comfortable. That makes me happy.”

“I...I am.” Anders pondered, waiting for Fenris to open the door to their suite. “I’m making friends.”

“I hope so.” Fenris smiled as Pounce stood and stretched, prancing from his place at the fire to sprawl on the bed. “So…”

Anders flushed a little and handed the box over. “I got you that. I was told that they are your favorite.”

Opening the box, Fenris found it filled with small apple tartlets. The smell of cinnamon and apple wafted from the box, and Anders bit back a giggle when Fenris groaned and nabbed one, shoving the entire tartlet into his mouth.

“Amatus, this is…” Fenris put the box down on the table by his chair. “You got me a gift.”

“Oh well...you got me a clinic. I just got you some tartlets…” Anders flushed as Fenris reached out and tugged him close.

“You thought of me while you were out and got me a gift. Something thoughtful. Something that has made my day brighter.” Fenris said each word while maneuvering them to the bed. He pushed Anders’ back and followed him down. “I knew you would be a good match, a good consort.”

Anders hit the bed and inhaled sharply as Fenris covered him. He had a moment to register Fenris’ weight and then his lips were being nibbled. Hands cupped his face while Fenris kissed him, a gentle press of lips and teasing bites that made heat race through him. “Fen…” he moaned.

“Maker, Anders. I want to...I want to just hear you whimper. I want to see your eyes clouded with pleasure as you moan my name,” Fenris said in between kisses down his neck. “I want to taste you, mark you, bury myself in you.”

Anders gasped, clutching at Fenris’ back as he bit lightly at his neck. Fingers fumbled at his coat and Fenris sat up, straddling his waist. His coat was unbuckled and opened, his shirt was untucked, and Fenris’ hands slid under the fabric to press and rub.

“Fenris….what do I...what do I do?” Anders gasped, body shaking from the touches.

Fenris stilled, eyes closing as he took a deep breath. “I am sorry, Anders.”

Anders groaned. “Please...I want, need something.”

Fenris lay back down, covering him and nuzzling against his neck. “I’m pushing this too fast.”

“Are you sure? Because it feels good.” Anders whimpered.

Smiling slightly, Fenris sat back up and unbuttoned his doublet, pulling it from him and tossing it to the floor. His tunic followed. Lips twitching into a fuller smile, he tugged Anders up and out of his coat before pulling off his shirt. “If I ask you to take your pants off…”

Anders swallowed, face going red.

“Just your pants. We can bathe when we are done. But only if you are comfortable.” Fenris dragged a hand down Anders’ chest.

“Alright. I trust you.” Anders exhaled, watching Fenris stand. He plucked open his laces, stopping to pull off his boots and socks before shimming out of his pants. Fenris had done the same and when Anders looked at him again, he stood in red silk smalls. Anders’ eyes focused on the straining fabric, something in him shivering in anticipation and want.

“Lie back for me.” Fenris’ voice was a whisper. “You are so beautiful, Amatus. So beautiful.”

“I…” Anders fumbled for words, hissing as Fenris slid between his legs and pressed their erections together. Hips bucking, Anders groaned.

“That’s it. Move with me,” Fenris whispered into Anders’ ear, thrusting down, moaning softly as their silk covered cocks slid against each other.

They moved slowly, Fenris pressing gentle kisses over Anders’ neck and face. Anders clung, hands on Fenris’ shoulders, and panted. Gradually, Fenris increased the pace until they were both straining, Anders giving little whining moans as Fenris ground against him.

A hand snaked between their bodies and Fenris cupped Anders’ cock, rubbing over the silk-covered length with quick strokes, dragging a piercing wail from him. His body clenched and then exploded, toes curling as he came. Fenris gave a choked cry and followed, his hips stuttering as he pressed down, shuddering.

Panting softly, Anders found himself gathered up into a close cuddle. Fenris was whispering something against his hair - but what, he wasn’t sure. He felt floaty and light, relaxed...sticky. There was a brief thought that they should possibly bathe and then he let himself just enjoy the feeling of Fenris’ arms.

***

Anders’ first question after his bath was, “How long will my rooms be off limits?”

Fenris’ answer had been, “a few weeks, come, let us eat dinner.”

When morning came, Anders offered a little smile over breakfast and asked, “How long will my rooms be off limits?”

And Fenris had given an answering half-smile as he answered, “a few weeks, have another helping of toast.”

It went on that way for the next several weeks. Anders would ask during breakfast and dinner - and sometimes lunch if they ate together. Fenris always got this pleased little smile on his face, answering with a slowly dwindling amount of time until one morning Anders asked and Fenris had hummed thoughtfully and said, “today.”

Today.

Almost a month since his rooms had been closed. A month of Orana dressing him while Fenris’ manservant, Lucas, dressed him. A month of learning how to share space with his husband - of coming to call the Prince’s suite their room instead of Fenris’ room. A month of becoming comfortable sleeping in just his smalls, of waking up aroused because he was remembering their bodies sliding together…

Anders wasn’t sure if he was excited or saddened that the month was up.

The conflict of emotions must have shown on his face because Fenris leaned back in his chair. “What is going through your mind, Anders?”

“Does this mean I am moving my things?” He ducked his head, wincing slightly at how plaintive his voice had sounded.

“Unless you have a burning need to get rid of me, no.” Fenris was watching him closely. “Do you want to move your things?”

Anders picked up his toast, crumbling it as he fidgeted. “No. I like being next to you.”

“Do you?” Fenris stood and moved around the table, pulling out the chair next to Anders. “Just sleeping?”

Crumbs rained from Anders’ fingers. “I...I liked what we did…why haven’t we...I mean…”

“Anders.” Fenris reached out and brushed the remains of toast from his hands. “I have been waiting on you. Wooing you gently. I was afraid I had scared you off.”

“I was a little overwhelmed,” Anders admitted. “But...I enjoyed it. And…”

Fenris gave a chuff of amusement. “One step at a time, Amatus.”

“What does that mean? You say it frequently.” Anders leaned forward, lips parting as he gazed at Fenris with something like adoration in his eyes.

“I will tell you soon.” Fenris met him halfway and pressed their lips together. “You make me happy, Anders. Now, I am guessing you are too excited to eat more. Shall we go see your rooms?”

Anders flushed and nodded, standing and following Fenris back up the stairs to their wing.

The door looked the same. So did the hall. Anders squinted at Fenris and opened the door and stepped into a room that was no longer pastel creams and blues. Instead it was warm yellows on the walls, deeper greens and blues on the furniture. Bright colors and muted warm wood. There was a set of chairs in front of the fireplace - still pale marble but now gleaming in a room alive with color.

The room wasn’t just fireplace and chairs, there was framed art of herbs on the wall, a cat bed and basket of toys, and bookshelves filled with books. Books that belonged to him - his. His books that he had brought and the books he had left. All there, all arranged for him.

Anders felt the air back up into his lungs as he looked around. “This…”

“We aren’t done. Come.” Fenris gestured at the doorway that led back to his bedroom. Only...only it wasn’t pale blonde wood and pastels. Instead it was his desk...his desk from his office in the Circle. His notes from his classes. His sheets on the narrow bed in the room. Pounce's old bed under the window. His old slippers near the fireplace...his old robe hung from a hook on the door to the dressing room that held the rest of his clothes. The clothing his brothers had said spoke too much of a Circle teacher and healer than of a Prince.

The bathroom held soaps and salts...the ones he had made. His shaving kit...not the elaborate one Cailan hand foisted on him but the older well-worn set. Even his towels...his...his towels from his old bathing chamber were there.

The artwork from his rooms had been hung. The walls were the same pale ivory...the rug the same he had paced while reading his students’ work.

It was all here. His life. His home...brought to Kirkwall.

The door to Fenris’ room was missing. The doorway was there, an arch into Fenris’ office. But there was nothing to separate the Consort Suite from the Prince’s Suite. Anders peeked into Fenris’ office and saw a few of the random pieces of artwork from his old Circle office now in Fenris’ room.

Tilting his head, he wandered into the room and noted an old mortar and pestle sitting on the corner of Fenris’ desk. A flowering embrium at the window.

Walking back into what was now his space...really his space, he saw the additions - the comfortable chair at the desk, the plump mattress on the bed, the window seat turned into a cat’s nook - complete with lounging Pounce.

“Fenris…” Anders’ choked.

“This is your home, Anders. You left so much of yourself in Ferelden. I would do anything to make you happy here.” Fenris took a step towards Anders. “Anything.”

“You did this...for me?” Brushing at his face, Anders turned so he could hide the sudden tears. “All this? For me?”

“Anything for you, Amatus. Anything," Fenris assured his husband, tugging him into a warm embrace. “I wanted you to have your own space. The bed is so you can nap when you get tired. I thought you would prefer your own dressing room. Not that I... I enjoyed sharing, but we are both used to the space.” Fenris moved them to the bed to sit.

“You even put cat toys out.” Anders choked on a laugh, moving to sit next to Fenris.

“I thought...perhaps...when we.” Fenris cleared his throat. “When we have children, we could discuss turning this into a nursery and moving you to down near my official office.” Fenris flushed, the first real blush Anders had seen on him.

“Your ears pink when you get embarrassed.” Anders gave a delighted laugh.

“Anders,” growled Fenris. “Concentrate...nursery…”

Anders gazed around the space. “We could do that. I could see our child here. Though where is the official nursery?” He didn’t seem to realize he was planning for their children and not panicking.

Fenris huffed. “One floor down. Can you believe it?”

“How would I nurse...no.” Anders looked aghast.

“I thought you would say that.” Fenris chuckled.

“Nursemaids are out.” Anders scrunched up his nose. “My baby, I’ll handle them.”

Fenris gave a teasing grin and leaned forward. “So…”

“So?” Anders was still stuck on the rooms, on his things...and on the thought of Bran trying to force a nursemaid onto them.

“Do you like it?” Fenris watched Anders, eyes focused.

Anders gave a laugh. “Like it? Like it, he asks. I love it. I...I…”

“I know.” Fenris breathed out, relaxing.

“You,” Anders said slowly. “I...I think I’m…falling...for you.”

Fenris smiled, one of his rare full smiles and pressed a finger to Anders’ lips. “I have one important question for you.” He watched Anders nod, eyes wide. “When is your next heat?”

The flush surged up Anders’ neck. “Three weeks, give or take a day.”

Anders watched as Fenris looked thoughtful. “Then I have my work cut out for me.”

“What?”

“I plan on seducing you.” Fenris’ smile grew slightly predatory. “Yes. Three weeks. I can wait a little longer.”

“Fenris…” Anders stood up, ready to protest.

Fenris hummed, stood, and nodded. “Yes, three weeks. Plenty of time. You will not be afraid of me then. And if you are, well...I will wait till your next heat. Yes. This is going well.” He pulled Anders into a kiss, nipped his lower lip, and strode to the door leading out to the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Anders stood in shock in the middle of his room, face red, mind racing.

“To plan, of course. I will see you at dinner.” Fenris took another step and then glanced at Anders. “And, Anders?”

“Yes?” That bewildered look was still on Anders’ face.

“I love you.”

Anders was left standing speechless in the middle of his room, staring at the empty doorway, while Fenris hummed happily and nearly skipped down to his office.


	5. Seduction

Anders hadn’t been sure what to expect with the wooing and that had turned out amazing. So when Fenris had said he was going to seduce him...well...Anders was mildly afraid it would involve more than paint and furniture. He was prepared for flirting, for teasing, and for maybe sex toys to show up in his rooms.

And despite being inexperienced, he wasn’t ignorant. He was a healer. He had delivered children, had performed countless exams on men and women. He knew how sex worked. He had given lectures on diseases, on illnesses, and a few times on how to best stimulate a partner. There were just some things that were biological, things any healer would know.

And overlooking his vast experience as a healer, he was also a healthy young man. He’d had a crush on Karl for months. And after he had been moved, when he couldn’t wiggle a finger without a guard lifting their head, he was still alone at night in bed. Still able to take himself and his natural urges in hand.

And he trusted Fenris. He did. From the moment they had met, Fenris had treated him with nothing but respect and affection. He had been patient, kind...sweet.

Anders knew what would happen when he hit his heat. He knew that the heat would make...it...easier. Would make his body more receptive. Would possibly end in pregnancy. In a baby.

The reason for the marriage. The heir. Anders’ true responsibility - though Fenris hated when he said that.

So the entire idea of seduction was met with trepidation, fear, and a tiny bit of anticipation.

All this tension wound itself around Anders’ until he was a bundle of nerves. Two days passed as he waited for Fenris to make his first move...two days of Anders waking up at night and laying in bed with vague anxiety, two days of staying busy planning the clinic...two days of trying to not hide from his husband.

It was evening of the third day when Fenris made his first foray into seduction. Anders walked into their suite and found Fenris lounging in his robe - book in hand and Pounce on his lap.

“What…” Anders came to a stop.

“Ah, good. Perfect.” Fenris put his book down, picked up Pounce only to lay him on the settee, and then stood. “Just in time.”

“For what?” Anders watched with slight alarm as Fenris stalked towards him.

“A bath, Amatus.” Fenris skirted around Anders and closed the door to their rooms. “Together.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” Anders asked, trying to swallow down the twin thrills of fear and excitement.

“Look it up.” Fenris began untucking Anders’ shirt. “Off. Off with these. The bath is ready and waiting.”

“Fenris!” Anders found himself divested of his shirt and then shoved down onto the settee to have his boots removed. “I can…”

Fenris chuckled, pulled him back up, and began unlacing his pants, fingers brushing teasingly over his crotch. “You can what, Amatus?”

“Maker…” Anders inhaled as Fenris got his pants open and down his hips, fingers returning to stroke over the growing hardness. “Fen…”

“Mm...off with everything.”

“But you’re…”

Fenris tilted his head and gave another smile, pulling off his robe. He was naked underneath. Naked and aroused and beautiful...all dark skin and white swirling tattoos. Anders inhaled and wondered that he didn’t simply combust.

“And now your clothing.” Fenris’ voice was husky as he slid Anders’ smalls down and finally looked at his husband fully naked. “You are so beautiful. So lovely.”

“I…” Anders inhaled as Fenris stepped into his space to press a gentle kiss to his collarbone.

“Are you alright? Is this too fast?” Fenris stroked Anders’ face. “If it is, I will simply wash your hair.”

“No.” Anders shook his head. “No...I need to...we should. We’re married. I do want you. I just…”

That little smile was back and Fenris stepped back and hummed. “Come with with me to the tub. We will get used to each other. Just get used to each other.”

Anders watched Fenris walk away and tried to not stare at his perfect rear. Pounce gave a mrrp and Anders’ eyes met his cat’s unblinking gaze. “No comments from you,” he murmured before following Fenris into the bathing room.

The tub was already filled with steaming water, soaps and cloths laid out for them both, and towels folded on a nearby table. Fenris smiled and stepped into the tub, slowly sitting and look up at Anders. Who flushed and clambered in - almost slipping as he sat. They were face to face and it made Fenris chuckle a little.

“Back to me, Anders.” Fenris twirled a finger, watching as Anders wiggled and turned himself. Reaching out, he tugged Anders back and wrapped him in a warm embrace. “There.”

Anders ignored Fenris’ erection and instead focused on the arms around him, the feeling of being held, the soft kisses being planted on his neck, and the warm water. It was...nice. More than nice, actually. It felt good and relaxing. Comfortable.

“How is this?” Fenris asked, pressing his face to Anders’ shoulder.

“This is nice...good...I like it. I like it when you hold me. I like…” Anders quivered as Fenris pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I like how you feel against me.”

“Have you pleasured yourself before?” The question was whispered.

Anders blushed. “Yes...I have.”

Fenris trailed his hands up and down Anders’ chest, humming softly. “Good. May I touch you?”

“You are touching me. I’m practically in your lap.” Anders hissed a little as Fenris’ fingers brushed over his nipples.

Fenris pressed his lips against Anders’ ear and hummed. “May I touch your cock?” The words were whispered into his ear and made Anders’ flush. “You can say no.”

The words had him inhaling sharply. “Ahh...ok. Yes...please.”

“Tell me if you need me to stop. Alright?” Fenris pressed light kisses to Anders’ neck. “I will not push you.”

Anders’ answer was a soft moan as Fenris’ hand slid down his stomach, over his thigh and then inward to brush over the sensitive head. A gasp from Anders, a hum from Fenris, and fingers wrapped around his cock and started to stroke slowly.

“Feel good?” Fenris pressed a lingering kiss to his shoulder.

“Fen…” Anders’ voice cracked. “I…” He squirmed back, rubbing against Fenris’ erection.

“Shh...it’s ok.” Fenris stroked him faster. “Do you want me to bring you over?”

“I…” Inhaling sharply, Anders tensed. “I...I’m going to…”

“It’s ok, Amatus. I have you.” Fenris wrapped his other arm around Anders and held him, his hand moving in smooth pumps. Anders gave a sudden cry and jerked, body writhing. He panted as the pleasure curled up his body and then out, leaving him limp and clinging to Fenris.

“So beautiful.” The words were murmured.

Anders was aware of warmth at his back...more than just the water, and Fenris’ pleased hum.

“Did you?” He couldn’t find the words.

“You are perfect. Everything about you is perfect.” Fenris praised. “Will you sleep nude with me so that I may feel you? Just sleep. I wish to feel your skin against mine.”

“Alright.” Anders smiled shyly. “We should...the water…”

“You are, of course, correct. How do you feel?” Fenris watched as he slowly stood and climbed from the tub.

Anders pondered the question as he wrapped himself in a flannel towel. “Relaxed. And...good. I feel good.”

“Do I scare you? Does this...scare you?” Fenris joined him, peeking at up at him as he dried off.

“The situation is nerve wracking. I do but don’t know what to do...you know? But, you’re gentle and I...I like how you feel when you touch me. I’d like to touch you sometime.” Anders flushed.

“We’ll do that next, then.” Fenris pulled him down into a gentle kiss. “But for now, how about some cuddles and then sleep?”

“That sounds perfect.” There was happiness in Anders’ voice and it made Fenris beam.

***

Fenris didn’t touch him again for several days. Well, he touched him - little fleeting strokes against his shoulders, kisses to his neck, long strokes over his back when they cuddled in bed...warm, loving touches that made Anders purr and nuzzle and murmur happily. All designed to put him at ease with the idea of being naked with his husband, being held...being touched.

It made him thoughtful, the entire slow seduction. The graduation from chaste to passionate. The two steps forward, one step back approach that Fenris was taking. It made him wonder why Fenris didn’t just all out seduce him.

A question that finally came out one lazy morning in bed.

They had had a late night - some soiree for a noble, the requisite dancing and dining and talk that wore them both out. Lying there next to Fenris, dark skinned fingers tracing random patterns on his chest, Anders finally asked the question that had been banging around in his head since that bath.

“Why are you being so patient about all this?”

Fenris hummed and propped himself up on Anders’ chest. “Truthfully, I had been looking forward to our wedding night. However, your brothers…”

“My brothers?” Anders blinked. “My brothers put you off? Well...Cullen is an ass...so’s Cailan. And don’t get me started about Alistair…”

Fenris chuffed, shoulders shaking. “No, no...though your descriptions are correct. No. It was your fear. The way they bullied you about your...role...here.” Fenris sobered. “It would not have been right. I thought you had desired this union. To find you so afraid, so upset...I wanted you to come to me out of passion, not out of obligation.”

Anders gaped at him. Fenris seemed nervous...a rarity, something Anders had never truly seen before. And it inspired him to pull Fenris down into a searing kiss. His husband wanted him. Him! And would be patient because he wanted it to be more than about conception.

Fenris broke the kiss and then grinned, cheeky and teasing, and slid down Anders’ body. “Let me show you how much I desire you, Amatus.”

“What are you...oh Maker….” Anders clutched at the sheets as Fenris’ breath fanned over his cock. The light lick had him hardening, had a surprised whimper exploding. “Fenris…”

There was a bite to one hip. Kisses pressed to his inner thighs, and then Fenris’ hot, wet mouth sliding down his cock. Fenris’ fingers cupping his sack, kneading lightly and tugging. Pleasure so intense that his toes curled and hands clawed into the sheets while his hips thrust up - the thrust of his cock making Fenris moan...the vibration making Anders sob.

A finger trailed down to tease lightly at his entrance and that made him inhale sharply. But Fenris’ mouth didn’t stop moving, didn’t stop sucking...and when that finger pressed in a tiny bit, Anders couldn’t stop himself. His broken moan was followed by a full-body shudder of pleasure. Fenris hummed happily, swallowing...wringing him empty, trailing kisses back up his body and taking his lips. Licking lightly so that he tasted himself.

“So beautiful,” Fenris whispered. “Worth the wait, really.”

Anders was still trying to decide which way was up. Fenris was pressed to him, his erection very much evident in the slight rolling of hips. And something in Anders’ had him pressing Fenris back.

“Let me?” The question was only half-asked - but Fenris seemed to understand and nodded. “I can…”

“You may,” Fenris said, fingers carding through long blond hair. “Anything. You may have anything.”

The words pushed Anders to explore. Fingers trailing over skin...following the curls of the tattoos, following the path of muscle from chest to waist to hips. Fenris’ cock was beautiful and dark and Anders had a sudden desire to taste him...to make Fenris moan as he had moaned.

Fingers brushed his hair back as he pressed kisses over Fenris’ length. Licked and teased, nipped lightly - making Fenris gasp and arch. Anders gagged at the first try and then found a rhythm...tried sucking and licking, tried stroking his hand while he suckled at the head. Everything made Fenris writhe, made him whisper Anders’ name.

A tug on his hair had Anders looking up into Fenris’ eyes. “I’m going to…”

And Anders ignored the tugs to keep sucking, blinking in surprise at the sudden flood of Fenris’ pleasure, moaning from the salty bitter taste that he swallowed down - lapped it up where it dribbled over Fenris’ cock. Till Fenris was pulling him up, laughing lightly at the look of disappointment. “We can do it again,” he said, amusement in his voice.

“It was...good. I enjoyed it. You.” Anders felt himself flush, more at the look of happiness on Fenris’ face than the words he spoke.

“Then we will do it again,” Fenris said. “Amatus, you make me so happy.” The words spoken as Anders was pulled down into a kiss. “So happy.”

***

More days. Only now, the slide of time made Anders impatient instead of nervous. The idea of being naked with Fenris was now a thing of pleasure rather than fear. They spent their evenings exploring each other - finding what felt good and what didn’t and what made Anders curl up with laughter.

And they talked - the slow exploration of their bodies bringing out more than just a physical intimacy. Anders told stories of Ferelden...places he loved to go, people he had met and formed bonds with. And Fenris told him of his mother - a red-haired, dark skinned elf from Tevinter. A member of a magisterium house that had wanted ties to the south. His father, Fenris said, had seen her and fell in love instantly.

They had married and had Fenris...his dark skin from his mother and black hair from his father. And then Varania came...and she had magic and their mother’s red hair. He watched his parents have a good marriage, lead the City together…

“It was what I wanted. It was why I was so picky,” Fenris explained.

“And you don’t regret…” Anders started to ask.

“The only thing I regret is your family,” Fenris teased.

“So where did the tattoos come from, then?” Anders asked, his fingers trailing down Fenris’ chest.

“A tradition from Tevinter. My mother said her brother had them - that he was a warrior with great skill. The tattoos...they showed maturity, strength...power. Father agreed to allow me to get them so that we could blend traditions.” Fenris tapped his finger on the tattoos. “They strengthen my ties to my mother’s house. Your family gains access to Tevinter through my bloodlines. Our children could be married to a magisterium house, should we wish it.”

Anders snorted. “Not unless we visit Tevinter and I meet the house first.”

“My wise consort,” Fenris teased, tugging him into an embrace. “I am a lucky man.”

Anders rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be pulled into a kiss. He didn’t say it, but he was lucky as well…

***

Anders was amused that his heat hit on the first real day of winter. There was an icy rain coming down outside, coating the city in slick, dangerous sleet. Fenris had sent a lot of the extraneous personnel home - scribes and bureaucrats and the nobles. Anders had holed up in their rooms, pondering how best to spend the time before Fenris could come to him.

Because nothing was worse than trying to stay busy when a heat hit.

He was antsy and tired, his body sore and sensitive. Not to mention the uncomfortable feeling of slick. Add in the anticipation and he was going slightly stir-crazy.

Orana had finally drawn him a bath and left...mainly because he had told her to go spend time with her lover. He didn’t need anybody hovering over him. Heats happened. They were natural. He didn’t need a mother hen.

He lounged in the bath, lotioned himself - more to stay busy than a desire to smell like herbs...and then went to play with Pounce.

Which was how Fenris found him. Wearing sleep pants and holding a long stick with ribbons, Anders was leading Pounce on a merry chase around the sitting room when Fenris stepped in. Anders flushed and Pounce took the opportunity to pull the ribbons out of his hand and enact catly vengeance on them.

“He’ll eat the ribbons.” Fenris pointed out.

“If I try to take it from him, I’ll end up with scratches.” Anders shrugged, watching as Pounce subdued the ribbons and then dragged them off to bury in his bed.

Fenris chuckled and glided to him. “You look...spectacular. How do you feel?”

“I hate heats,” Anders grumbled. “Everything is sore and what isn’t sore is...um…”

Fenris waggled his eyebrows. “Would you prefer to just cuddle or…”

Anders’s answer was to throw himself into Fenris’ arms and press kisses over his face.

“Well, then I think we should go back to where the bed is,” Fenris teased, taking Anders’ hand and dragging him from the room.

Anders thought he should feel a frisson of fear - but he didn’t. He just felt all that anticipation tightening in his belly. Felt desire shiver up his legs to blossom and harden. He wanted this, he realized. He wanted Fenris. He wanted to touch and take and be taken and it made him grin - a happy smile that Fenris saw and hummed at.

“Good?”

“I want you,” Anders said, the words making his cheeks flush. “I do.”

“I want you too.” Fenris growled, a low sound of possessiveness and want. “I want to make this good for you.”

Anders stripped off his sleep pants and slid onto the bed, sprawling back with his legs parted. “You will. I trust you.”

“Maker, Anders.” Fenris groaned, stripping out of his own clothes. “There is a vial in the nightstand on my side. Grab it.”

Anders rolled over, wiggling his hips as he shimmied up the bed and found the vial. Fenris gave a soft chuff of laughter and pounced, quite literally, onto his husband - wrestling with him back to the middle of the bed.

They laughed, Fenris’ fingers finding the sensitive spots on Anders’ sides and digging in lightly, tickling and teasing. Anders responded with nips at Fenris’ neck and pinches to his arms - gleeful giggles that had his eyes sparkling.

“Love making does not need to be serious, Amatus,” Fenris whispered in his ear, nibbling down his neck. Anders’ breath caught. “It can be fun...gentle...passionate…”

Anders moaned as Fenris kissed his way down his body. There was the sound of a cork popping and then Fenris’ tongue licking up Anders’ cock, the feeling of his lips wrapping around the sensitive head as one finger rubbed, circled, and pressed slowly into tight heat. Pressure and the foreign feeling of fullness...the gentle rhythm of thrusts as a tongue lapped Anders’ cock and a finger probed him...finding a spot that had stars sparkling behind his eyelids.

Fenris kept it up, licking and sucking at Anders’ cock while he opened him...oil adding to his body’s natural slick until three fingers were plunging into him and he was begging, moaning...writhing.

“Fenris...I...it’s…” Anders’ voice broke and he arched up.

“Does it hurt?” Fenris lifted his head, twisting his hand and driving his fingers deeper.

“No…” Anders sobbed.

Fenris chuckled and pulled back, the loss making Anders whimper. “Hush, Amatus. Look at me.”

Amber eyes met green as Fenris rubbed more oil into his own cock and then positioned himself. “You are ok with this, yes? Tell me I may…”

“You can...please.” Anders bit his lip. “Please.”

The words had Fenris pressing forward. Slowly, gently...then soothing Anders past the sudden stretch and burning pain that gave way to just burning stretch as Anders relaxed. A shallow thrust, more stars...slim fingers tightening on dark skin as lips met. And then movement...the glide, the electric jolts of pure pleasure with each slide in, with each slide out.

Anders keened, dug his fingers into Fenris’ shoulders harder, thrust up to meet each movement. He didn’t think he could last...the need white hot and growing. Fenris sat back, hips rolling languidly as he wrapped a hand around Anders’ cock and stroked, the oil allowing his fingers to glide.

It was too much. Anders broke apart, jerked and spent himself over his belly while Fenris’ hips stuttered, thrust in hard once, and then filled him in a warm rush before collapsing down to cuddle and hold.

Anders gave a giggle.

“You’re laughing?” Fenris propped himself up. “Laughing?”

“It’s just...I was so afraid of this. My brothers made it sound like such a chore. Well, Cailan did. Alistair had this look on his face that I’ve only ever seen when he blathers on about cheese. But...well...all that talk of duty and children.” Anders sniggered a bit. “If they had gone on and on about how good it would feel…”

“I get the feeling Cailan and Anora get drunk first.” Fenris’ response was dry, his lips twitching in amusement.

Anders laughed harder.

“So...then…” Fenris brushed back blond hair, a fond smile on his face.

“I’m saying I want to do it again...maybe another three or four times...just to be sure.” He wiggled his hips and grinned.

“I’ve created a monster,” teased Fenris, happiness evident. “Oh, Amatus...you are ridiculous.”

“What does that mean?”

“I told you to look it up.” Fenris flushed, ears pinking.

“I want you to tell me. I would...I think it’s important.” Anders allowed himself to be manhandled into a cuddle.

“It means 'loved one',” Fenris whispered against blond hair. “I love you.”

Anders melted into the cuddle. “I…”

“It’s too early for you to know, Anders. And I’m alright with that. Just know, I do. I’ve loved you forever, it seems. And I am content to watch you fall in love with me.” Fenris pressed a light kiss to Anders’ forehead.

Anders thought back to the first day he saw the Keep - he saw his husband. Every little gesture, every little word...even then. “Even then…” Anders couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts straight.

“From the moment I saw you sweaty and dusty - I knew. I had thought before but…” Fenris hummed. “But seeing you there, I knew.”

Anders pressed himself closer. “I hope we have a girl.”

Fenris chuckled. “Tired of being in a house full of men?”

“A little girl with your skin and my eyes.” Anders hummed.

“And will you betroth her?” Fenris tapped Anders’ nose.

“I think we should wait to see what kind of hellion we produce, don’t you? I think Bran is in for years of deep sighs and headaches.” Fenris laughed at Anders’ pleased smile.

“Any child you give me will be loved,” Fenris promised. “Now then...how about a bath?”

“A bath or...a bath?” Anders wiggled away and rolled from the bed. “Because I can be persuaded to the second.”

“Oh, Amatus.” Fenris slid from the bed to stalk his husband. “Why don’t I show you?”

There was a burst of laughter as Anders ran to the bathroom. Fenris’ lips twitched into a smile as he watched pale skin flash in the firelight. He counted to three and took off after his husband. Pounce peeked into the room and stalked in, ribbons trailing from him. He jumped up onto the bed, arranged the ribbons over the pillows, and then curled up to sleep - purring. From the bathroom came a moan and Pounce just purred louder...happiness found in a tall building of cold grey stone in a city that had, slowly, become home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are at an ending for this story, though I will take prompts to add to this (either about the guys as children or after this). Be aware, I will not write a full-on mpreg story, but I am happy to write daddy!Anders and daddy!Fenris. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, for leaving kudos, and for every wonderful comment. Truly, you all are the best!

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to all who have read over parts, editing, listened to my sobs as I wrote this. I love you all.
> 
> I can be found on Tumblr as Warriormaggie


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